La Lune

how gorgeous is the moon that hangs
silently through the night,
amidst the stillness of the stars
the soft creeping light.
I have seen many moons in this
short sojourn of mine. some
well-rounded and flattened,
as the embers lick it’s soft edges;
and some found in the the most
unassuming faces, brimming with light;
or eclipsing at times; me in my mother’s
glassy eyes and a tiny crescent on the side
of my nose. Molten gold or blinding white, I can never tell. Yet how gorgeous
is the moon that winks at me from
behind the clouds, and how short, this clandestine tryst! like a lover departing,
gushing with promises to show
up the next day; it always returns.