Letters to the Moon

Letters to the Moon

Hey,

Yeah, you.

Moon.

I’m talking to you.

Have been trying to for a while.

What’s it gonna take for a response?

An ode?

Been there, done that.

Frivolous swoonings in the silent hours of too late somnambulance.

Oh pale full hues upon my painful musings,

these proclamations do nothing for you.

Spurned.

That’s how you left me.

Haiku?

Pock marked shape shifter

phasing in and out of style.

Fickle rejector.

Modernism must get a rise out of you,

the lingering smog of the evolving city

obscures Grecian references as an untranslated text

obfuscates meaning. Der mond, la lune, mặt trăng,

shall I google translate you 243 times?

It only takes one way

for you to say nothing back.

Come on, don’t make me get Postmodern.

Cicada, drone, bemoan the light of a phone glare

undarkening full lit night bright reflections

all is mirror unclear in the cheese

you want nothing of me.

You want to hear truth?

I want to yearn for something the way sea turtles yearn for you.

You want to hear lies?

I want to love something so much I can be tricked like a mayfly

into flying astray.

You want to hear something beautiful?

The moon

Watches

And knows.

And any shame

You feel

Is pure.

But the joy,

Also,

Is there any truer

Than happiness

Beneath a smiling moon?

You already heard that one years ago, it should be familiar.

You want to hear something sad?

I miss

the beauty

of your face

when there were no other lights

to distract

from your perfection.

You want to hear more?

Then you’ve gotta give me something.

Anything.

Any response.

Come on.

You’re the moon.

What else do you have to do besides lead poets toward salvation

with a wink and a smile.

~Sincerely, me.