Bright Harvest by Grace Noll Crowell - HTML preview

New Moon

O

VER the meadow a new moon showing,

Curved like a blade near a shimmering

star,

And I am again a young girl going

Down the long lane where the cattle are,

Calling them home from the dusk-sweet clover,

My bare feet splashed by the early dew,

“If I make a wish with the new moon over

My right shoulder, it will come true . . .”

“Co’ boss, co’ boss,” my lips are calling,

But my shy young heart is away with its dreams—

There is the thud of a rail bar falling,

As over my shoulder the new moon gleams.

Out in the dusk a faint bell ringing,

And the last cow follows that tinkling tune.

I send up my wish and it goes winging

Beyond the stars, and beyond the moon

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