Monday, July 07, 2008


Brightness seeps into the midnight air
at world’s edge, where a silver half-crown hides
behind the thrashing shadows of the trees.
A windy night. The moon is on the wane
from gibbous to a sliver, nail pared
to cuticle of light. It slips and slides
from dark to dark, a sail in search of breeze
to fill it full, a downless counterpane.

We seek a portent in this lunar dwindle
followed by rebirth: anthropomorphic
meanings written by us on the moon.
A leap of faith, imagination kindled,
inference unjustified but Orphic—
prophetic, half-deflated white balloon.

Collection available! Knocking from Inside


one moe believer said...

a half moon of delight...

Anonymous said...

delightful - this poem left me with a big big smile. so many ways to describe a beautiful scene

Nathan said...

The moon is an apt subject for a meditation on our need for "anthropomorphic meanings." A well-crafted piece.

twitches said...

I especially like this phrase:

meanings written by us on the moon."