Through her eyes

Is the moon friend to the stars

or is she forced to save face

tethered together for centuries to the night sky

tolerating each other's company

small talk abandoned long ago

preferring silence to pretense

some nights grinning brightly in their presence

hopeful for a reconciliation

only to return on other nights

weary and heavy in her disappointment,

deflated

~~~

In December, other stars appear below

connected in strings of multicolored hues

she watches them keenly

breath hitched in excitement

pondering if these new friends could be different

she gazes through the warmly lit windows below

some with gingerbread cookies cooling beyond the glass

others decked with wreaths of evergreen and moss

silken white flowers peeking through

she catches the occasional sparkle of silver tinsel

nightdreaming them as baby moons

wishing to hold them near

~~~

There are evenings she tries to be invisible

drained from the persistent effort of

trying to please others

those times she remains still and unobtrusive

adorned in a soft dark dress of light grey with blue undertones

she catches young lovers kissing under the mistletoe

a father carrying a sleeping child into bed

two friends embracing

ribbon-laced gifts tumbling to the floor

their mouths agape in abandoned laughter

~~~

On those nights she wonders what it might be like

to shine so radiantly for love

her faith restored, she smiles again

this time for herself

~~~

Written for Poppy’s final Prompts (December edition)… see below.