Luna

Fits like the favorite, One and then they’re done

Have a moment then they save it before it’s even begun

The Moon starts to draw from her waxing and waning

And she weaves with the stars the tapestry remaining,

She is ruled by the gods and still fighting her pride

Yet she can’t help but keep circling close to those beside.

The two feet remain still to take it all in stride.

Her soles and her soul are so tired and tried.

Solitarily sewn and nothing to pluck in sight.

Just a hospital bed with thin blankets of time.

On her vacant forehead, the doctors all saw the sign,

Just two months and a pen and a broken-down spine.

Now the muckety maker is breaking the plan,

And the mess that’s created has wounded her hands,

All that they need is a laugh, to understand

To see what their mothers bore before they could comprehend,

They are full to the fullest and their hearts start to distend,

And the loveliest eyes make the hosts at once descend.

Don’t reach out (deep breath) without a worthy exchange

They won’t recognize that from which they’ve been estranged

And still sing all the old songs lest the mechanics engage.

The Moon sings only one song and it’s from her first breath

When they hear their mother’s voice and get held close to her breast,

That one alone can calm each heart’s protest.

“The adored and adoring are blind to the rest.”

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