love letters to the moon

stone scrawlers, papyrus penners,
                    quill and inkwell dwellers,
type writers, hunt and peckers,
                     electronic mailers,

everyone has written love letters to the moon
the great pagan,
patron saint of poets

generations, stuffing messages
in bottle rockets
pushing off into the cosmos

it cannot make much sense to her
why we adore her plain round face so
or her sly and slivered smile

though she must have come to realize,
after all these years
she is often the only source of light
in a planet's darkest hours

no, she is no fool
our obsession, likely,
no accident at all

after all,
she's seen every human birth
every death, everything between
in silent observation
she has learned every spell
we will fall for
every trick to cast
on our fragile little bones

maybe she looks longingly back
at our whirling liquid-crust, hung high
against a black and star speckled infinity
our big blue eye wooing her
and she cannot suppress her desire
to add some of our color
to her pale cheeks
some salt water to her dusty tears

but here we are
stuck staring at each other
star-crossed lovers
for all eternity




wb