The Moon Calf (Franz Sedlacek), Sonnet #456

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My Human Disguise.
















I once rode the moon calf 

Over the city roofs.

He was only a half

And made a nice saddle.

(Please don’t ask me for proof.)

Both of us were addled

By his mother’s mooning,

As if she didn’t mind

I might be marooning

Her boy from his own kind.

My ride bucked and I fell

Into a wishing well.

I said, “You go home now.”

The calf became a cow.