Anna Livesey is a some-time poet, usually found in deep cover as a public servant, and currently mostly occupied with a small baby.
We woke at an unaccustomed time and knelt by the window.
The moonmen pushed lines out in front of them,
they marked off their territories with orange markers.
The moonmen made a regular thud thud like a generator.
Walking and Other Seasons
Memory of a Poem by August Kleinzahler
It is Spring, Sometime Late in the Fifties
A girl in a bed under a window,