Dearest Moon

I have only looked upon your face

In the dark of night

From a shadowed place

With a reflected light

Sometimes I see the whole,

Sometimes part,

Sometimes black as coal,

Sometimes lit like art.

There's always a cycle

There's always a pattern

It's affected my psyche

Mention morning and you've slipped away like satin.

But mournimg is what I do

Mourning is the pain in my stomach

It's copying the cycles of you

When it's gone, there's lilac

And when it comes there's red and blue.