O Moon in June,
How do you flee your star-forest night?
They say you are getting more distant
Had I measured the expanse between you and me?
Yet I am filled with the vigil of Artemis
hunting me (as if I was a deer) among the queer blocks of the night-city?
though I am no shimmering cloak of dilletante appearance
I am no full-bodied flesh of handsomeness
No charming Apollo; and I didn’t ever consider the sun and moon
man and wife; far from it!
I am still holding onto my Mother’s thumb every night,
though she has passed away; because her wondrous light
still pierces the sky and fills each lamp of my soul
The Moon is just a ship that slips through the sky for me, by the way
No oracle of fortune to me. And the moon will slip by like this
from June to July and August, and so on…
till she falls out of gravity with the earth
and is caught by another planet
Or just falls out into the Oort cloud!
montes-musings.blog 