To the Moon From a Staunch Admirer

Here I stand
The moon's

Staunch admirer   

As a passing cloud 

Transmutes your glory

Only moments passed full

It seems as if there’s

Secret knowledge 

Passing between us

Or is it just a note of sadness

As we head into the last

Lap before autumn

You’re truly less orotund

But ever more diaphanous 

With a nimbus extravagantly

Proportioned on a misty night

Such as this

Suddenly the gravamen

Of the complaint

Is not quite as expected

A slice has gone missing

For all to plainly see

It’s a figure and ground thing

And where it's trending

Is the opposite of plenty

You might even say

And yet
There’s promise too

Of harvest moons to come 

Harvest approaching soon

As one howl begets another

It’s the nature

Of moon 

Overleaping the bounds

Of things merely sub-lunar

Dover Beach included

Transporting us onward

And upward

In affirmation

With the coyotes

Because the loss of faith

Is no big deal really

Compared to the gist

That persists down

Through the eons

From one follower to the next

Breath succeeded by caesura

Each of us howling

Our verses in turn