Poetry Appearing in Poetry In Motion® Chicago

The Moon's the North Wind's Cooky (What the little girl said)

Vachel Lindsay

The Moon's the North Wind's cooky.
He bites it, day by day,
Until there's but a rim of scraps,
That crumble all away.

The South Wind is a baker.
He kneads clouds in his den,
And bakes a crisp new moon that...greedy
North...Wind...eats...again!

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"The Moon's the North Wind's Cooky" from Collected Poems by Vachel Lindsay. Reprinted with the permission of Nicholas C. Lindsay on behalf of the Estate of Vachel Lindsay.

 

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