LUNAR LOVE POTION
Tonight the moon is full,
the giant, pale observer,
Earth’s amorous biographer
is a bright companion.
Tonight is the kind of night
to display your affection
under the wonder of its stare,
take your lover by the arm
and walk her outside
in her pajamas just before bed,
holding her hand securely
in the palm of your hand
as the whiskers of white pines
tickle the ashen chin
of the huge face in the sky.
You can carry her
over the thickets and stones
even onto your shoulders,
walk across the lawn
as you ingest the light,
sparking both your hearts
to burst with passion.
Lift her
toward the cratered countenance
which retreats slowly
into the night,
its mission accomplished,
then gently place her
upon a bed of mulch
and watch her eyes widen,
awestruck once again.
MOONBEAM
Tell me tonight
about the translucent bones
of icicles on the gutter.
Their tale is a disclosure
of your stalking.
You enter as a burglar
on the heels of darkness
and leave no fingerprints,
yet cleverly steal away secrets
between the elusive shadows
you create,
some darker than others,
convoluted figures
rummaging in the most remote corners
of the room.
The sleepless await an explanation
but your peering eyes
slip away
when the clouds make you blink.
If you do take something,
no one is the wiser.
The sand in your light
eventually blinds into submission
the most suspicious
who, in the morning, awake inspired
yet unaware of your intrusion,
until the icicles drip
in the rising sunlight.
COURAGE
As twinkling
stars
in florescent
pencil
erase
themselves
in bright morning
light
the winter
moon
abandoned by
night
hovers ashen
in the blue
cube
and casts its
disposition
without assisting
in the
onslaught
of illumination.
THE MOON
just hung
there
slightly
above the horizon
donning
a wry smile
against
darkened backdrop
its anemic
white garb
resembled a
freshly cut fingernail
found on the
black desktop.
I tossed my
cap
towards its
lower point,
beyond reach
of the trees,
landing it
gracefully
like a
Frisbee on a finger,
wondering
how did the
cow jumped over
this slightly
cocked glow
without
bumping its head
on the unseen
portion?
The
iridescent float winked
to share such
sport
but startled
I turned
to watch the
cat
play the
fiddle
till the dish
came home
with the
spoon.
The sun
settles beneath
cirrus sheets of the pink
horizon, releasing a
fading flicker upon the
tallow surface of the moon that sends
milky, iridescent beams into darkness
diluting daylight, guiding Earth through
midnight’s ocean, passed celestial
lumens and
compelling black holes, where the
universe floats from star to
star after the
curtailment of light.MOON CANDLE
JANUARY MOON
The darkness at night
becomes the brightness
of the day,
a fire in the hearth
becomes the mirror.
Earth is bitter,
abandoned by sunlight,
she wearily plods through
the gray day.
The warmth between
herself and the sun
has ended, she is alone now
and no longer desires
to refute our insecurities.
Above her horizon
and between the majesty of her mountains,
the radiance enticing life
has diminished to a cold star.
Yet, amid the barrenness
and bitter cold,
a friend rises into the icy night.
The moon, always beautiful,
always faithful.
NEW MOON
Tonight the
moon is full,
the giant,
pale observer,
Earth’s
perennial biographer,
is a bright
companion.
Tonight would
be
the kind of
night
to
reintroduce yourself
to this
wonder,
to take the
small toddler
of yourself
by the arm
and walk him
outside
in his
pajamas
just before
bed,
holding his
hand securely
in your palm
as the
whiskers of white pines
tickle the
ashen chin
of the huge
face in the sky.
You can hoist
the little one
over your
head
onto your
shoulders
and walk
across the lawn
as you ingest
the light.
Lift him
toward the
cratered countenance
which
retreats slowly
into the
depths of night,
and watch his
eyes widen,
awestruck
once again.
HARVEST MOON
Flame red,
a bouncing
balloon.
Every year
the harvest
moon rolls
upon the
hills
on the bottom
of the sky
till dusk
departs,
then it
floats upward,
a gold coin
in the deep dark pocket,
treading
heaven gingerly,
a clarinet
melody
amid the starry
ostinato.
The Earth
attempts reply
with a subtle
hum,
oaks and elms
kneel in vigil,
moonlit cows,
astonished,
stare as the
glow swells.
Its solitary
song
fills the
heavens
with orange
splendor,
plains of
wheat respond
as flaxen
fields melt.
