Saturday, August 24, 2013

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

No comments:

Post a Comment