Sunday, June 18, 2006

This is a poem that I wrote for my Dad a few years ago because he gave me the moon when I was little

all mine

sure, I've got a moon
she swings 'round on a string
too long to see
too fine to feel
as regular as shooting stars

it doesn't matter what she looks like
perhaps an open face
a pale, dimpled buttock
or just one milky eye
open, closing, open again
in the month's slow cycle

maybe she's a mirror
or a sieve
I use her either way
to reflect the light
or filter brightness
to something more bearable

her moon power pulls sea tides
hastens births
tickles coyotes' lips
wakes sleeping children
makes singers sing songs
poets write poems

and I know she's mine
as she swings on a string
slipping in and out of shadow
with whales's grace

question: did anyone ever give you the moon?

mompoet - Happy Father's Day today, Happy Birthday tomorrow Dad

No comments: