Slice of Moon
       

There's a slice of moon
left over in the sky, a sliver
of carnival glass wedged

into the milky blue,
as if the Gods
had a midnight party,

couldn't finish it all,
left a piece of moon
for us, barely throbbing

in the morning light,
a crescent of white
hanging onto the sober sky.

Why is it still up there
on this new day?
Its job, to taunt darkness,

burn through the night
like heaven's candle,
igniting our dreams,

should be over. Why
does this moon persist?
The sun sets as it's meant to,

leaves the sky gracefully,
falling into the arms
of the ocean.

We can trust it to disappear
so the sky can darken,
so we may rest, rocked

by the pale memory
of motion, rocked by the song
our mothers sang or never sang.

Tweet

Copyright © 2014 Kim Dower All rights reserved
from Slice of Moon
Red Hen Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission