egg

                                                                                by linda pastan

    in

        this

                kingdom



                           u

                    s              n

the

                                      never

                                                                            s e t s;


                                               v

                                    o                a

                                               l

under the pale

                o f  t h e  s k y

                there

            seems

        no

    way

in

    or

        out,

                and though there is a

                  s  e  a     h  e  r  e

                there is no ti  d    e      .


for the egg itself


                o

        m              o

                n

is a

g  l  o  w  i  n  g     f  a  i  n  t  l  y


                          g  a  l  a  x  y

in the

                                                    of the barn,

safe but for the spoon's

o m i n o u s thUndEr,

the first delicate  c r a c k

of   light

                ning.