- Category: Juvenilia
- Written by Jim Dee
Gary was making a coffin for the poodle
One morning, when we lived near Harry Truman's home.
My mother had recently mistaken a Shell sign for the sun
On the way home from the horse farm --
But, then again, we were all looking up to strange things.
The moon was out that day, the field was windy.
A black family was telling me about the moon when the
Grandmother got a strange look and kept asking for a child.
They brought April to her and the old woman smiled at the girl,
Saying, I seen the moon and you're the first soul I looked at after.