Flooding the Moon /// by David Dodd Lee

[vc_row row_height_percent=”50″ override_padding=”yes” h_padding=”2″ top_padding=”3″ bottom_padding=”3″ back_image=”56863″ back_position=”center top” overlay_alpha=”0″ gutter_size=”3″ shift_y=”0″][vc_column column_width_percent=”100″ position_vertical=”bottom” style=”dark” overlay_alpha=”50″ gutter_size=”3″ medium_width=”0″ shift_x=”0″ shift_y=”0″ zoom_width=”0″ zoom_height=”0″ width=”1/1″][vc_custom_heading heading_semantic=”h1″ text_size=”fontsize-338686″ text_height=”fontheight-179065″ text_space=”fontspace-111509″ text_font=”font-762333″ text_weight=”700″ text_color=”color-xsdn” sub_reduced=”yes” subheading=”by David Dodd Lee”]Flooding the Moon[/vc_custom_heading][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_empty_space empty_h=”2″][vc_column_text]It’s nothing, this rain
unidentifiably
changing to snow on

a shelf we can’t quite
reach. The years, child, the
years, some old man, his

hands warped into curved
doves, says, in the voice
of the boy he once

was. The sky and its
frozen stars compose
something of a fuselage.

You know the sound a
thing makes when it’s dead
set on crashing? It’s

inevitable now. Like
the time I dreamed a
beached whale was breathing

in my yard in the
Midwest. It cast a
shadow through my front door

and windows. But the next day
was so ordinary. I watched
my once plush lawn grow

brittle under the blazing
sun. I just wished I
could have exhaled the breath

of a thing that large.
An animal that isn’t going
anywhere that I’m not going.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column column_width_percent=”100″ align_horizontal=”align_center” overlay_alpha=”50″ gutter_size=”3″ medium_width=”0″ mobile_width=”0″ shift_x=”0″ shift_y=”0″ z_index=”0″ width=”1/1″][vc_empty_space][vc_separator sep_color=”color-184322″ el_width=”30%”][vc_empty_space][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column column_width_percent=”100″ align_horizontal=”align_right” overlay_alpha=”50″ gutter_size=”3″ medium_width=”0″ mobile_width=”0″ shift_x=”0″ shift_y=”0″ z_index=”0″ width=”1/3″][vc_single_image media=”57238″ media_width_percent=”100″][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/3″][vc_column_text]David Dodd Lee is the author of ten books of poems, including Animalities (Four Way Books, 2014) and two books of Ashbery erasure poems. He is also a visual artist. Lee lives in Indiana, on Baugo Bay.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/3″][/vc_column][/vc_row]