New Moon Is it bad luck to start a new creative endeavor when the moon is just blank in the sky? (That sounds like a poem, but it's not.)

Here is a poem by James Tate.

Five Years Old

Stars fell all night.

The iceman had been very generous that day

with his chips and slivers.

And I had buried my pouch of jewels

inside a stone casket under the porch,

their beauty saved for another world.

And then my sister came home

and I threw a dart through her cheek

and cried all night,

so much did I worship her.