She saw the sun bow out behind
the golden curtain of the sky,
then pushed the fluffy clouds away,
laughing as they tickled her face.
She hung the stars up in the night,
flung all about and one at a time
in a messy, graceful kind of play,
until she beheld the moon, broken back
like the leftovers of some monstrous snack.
And how she did it I may never know,
but I know she fixed it, for she told me so
in the morning after she awoke.