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POEM: mourning moon

March 11, 2014

mourning moon



what if

the moon went into mourning

took time off of work

grieving a star she knew very well?


the tides would crash, causing disruption below

on earth a whirlwind of chaos

like her bereavement.

she’d look on to his house, the ghost

of him still glows and it’s all the more

easier to pretend he still lives,

and she forces tears when the truth rushes to her

with the sound of her echo calling his name;

no reply

she wants to cry but her face

is dry and still, and the world below rages

in her absence and her face

is dry and still.


what if

she internalized that pain

pushed herself to work,

earth rotating as it should,

and all who gaze at her

felt small and alone

like she does.


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