06 October, 2009

what is the moon, really?

what is the moon?

no one really knows,

but I have some ideas.

maybe it's a felt circle

stuck to a woolen blanket

or a breath of light

the night sky takes

swelling with whiteness,

and then exhaled.

it is the night’s drain

the starlight circles.

the accretion of the glow

given off like pollen

from each humming streetlight.

maybe it’s an eye-hole

cut in the fabric of the night.

it could be a pearl, I suppose

flawed and dusty.

what is the moon?

no one really knows.

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