by Angela Platt

The moon
through chimney-curling smoke
a milk balloon
tied by tv aerial bars
suspended in cold blue.

Intermission birds
encircle, play their winter
games in dying light
as clouds obscure the screen
a deeper shade grisaille.
Naked black-laced branches
signal a watershed divide.

Suddenly, silver Houdini
to a higher sphere,
illusion’s trick.
A solitary observer
eyes skyward not on screen
applauds the moon
who steals the show.