Moon

 

Moon

(And It Went Like)

 

Is there a need in the world for men like you?

In gossips of fuss across your desk

and from hollow trivia - no rest,

no yellow half-moon, large and low,

no days of fast for the days are slow

that watched you grow

into more of a boy than a man.

You forgot to strut, balloon bellied,

in grey bearded thickets

with all the bilious zeal

of a performing circus seal.

You gained the cove with pushing prow

some years ago and they mostly flocked –

but some wintered here

after ice queens had combed your hair

then you were startled by flying fish

that dance and twist

their last moments upon desert decks

and want for sex.

You let slushy sand through fingers drip

until she came at last to steady ship,

both wondering and how it went like

moon will be forever this time

but what to sup and where to dine,

in a voice less loud but subtle clever

and she messages:

It can be anywhere,

even in the Moon, as long as we’re together.