poem

 Moon Poem

Poets are always writing about the moon

Nobody writes about the sun

The always whole sun

Never waxing or waning

Shining down tyrannical

Arrival so predictable

Like Dad home from work

And you know what that means

Time to get your shit together

Or whatever it really means

In your part of the country

It can mean everything

And where’s the fun in that

Some things are too perfect for poetry

The moon on the other hand

Is only ever occasionally complete 

And some nights it doesn’t 

Even show up at all. 

Ha! we think. That’s me!

Mostly just slivers of myself

And when I do finally put it all together

It’s usually on a cloudy night 

Nobody sees

Or even tries to look 

In the morning I have

To give it all back 

Even when we do shine

It feels like stolen light

8/7/23