la lune

This night the moon falls from the sky as a

Clipping of a fingernail. It cuts off

The Crescent and starts again. A new moon

Pulls the tide in, the waves draw close,

Tuck underneath the earth, where gravity

Holds it in place.

The moon has thrice caught my sight these cloudless

evenings. Each day it hides, yet comes out just

The same; big and golden and buttery.

I watch it engaged, my eyes fixed on it’s path,

Like a game of hide and seek as it comes and

Goes and seems to wax and wane oh so slow.

I look away for what seems a moment

And I return and to see it changed, from first

quarter to waning gibbous, from first glance

to this fickle romance that seems to have

cheated on me. I’m told “Swear not by the moon,

th’inconstant moon, that monthly changes her

circled orb.” But the moon is pulling no trick

on me, I should expect the pattern by now,

the months are marked. The stages are set and

I’m the one who looked away. I will say not

‘O how you’ve changed’ to the moon that’s calendar

Has been set.

I had a dream that I was driving o’er

The hills and I caught the moon. It was sinking,

sliding down the sky, drawing closer to

Earth. I jumped out of my car, felt gravity’s

pull and took three photos. Then I woke up,

and the photos and the moon were gone.

The tide draws back and forth and I cannot

Follow the waxing and waning cycle.

I am the earth, spinning on its axis,

with no focal point to ‘spot’ as I turn

As a ballet dancer continuing

Her set of foutees and pirouettes.

The tide swims in, over my mind, until

I am in too deep in this deep blue sea

And now I’m drunk with high tide, a full moon



1 Comment

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One response to “la lune

  1. Alex Farncomb

    hahaha. Lunatic!
    Really well written Em.

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