Moon Poem
The moon was once alive
With all the potential of any planet
Careening through the early solar system.
Seeds of rivers, mountains, flowers
Sleeping in its roiling interiors
Until the moment it collided with Earth
And everything needed was stolen.
Now it loyally follows us around
Like a lobotomized pet
Spinning through space,
Patiently waiting for us
To give back what we took.
Unbeknownst to most it drifts
A little further away from us—
An inch or two every year.
By the time we’re ready to share
The fruits of what we had taken
The moon will be so small,
Easily mistaken for just another star.
It will be like finally telling the one
Who loves you, you love them
But it’s just somebody who kind of looks
Like her and even she’s way over there
On the other side of the bar.
By then it will have been decades
Since anyone mentioned it in a poem.
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