I haven't communed with the moon
in much too long
so tonight I sit and listen
to the stories he has to tell
stories of memory and prediction
past and future side by side
Such a romantic, that moon
and I try to write by the light
of sun caught in a jar
so pale in comparison -
the soft salmon glow
next to the sharp silver white
Such a glamorpuss, that moon
The pink ink I use melts away
as soon as it touches the page
like the invisible pen at the joke shop
I used to want so bad as a kid
what pranks I could play
with an invisible pen
People would think I was magic
that I could make the letters disappear
And tonight, I do
writing the words as if I'd spoken them
Here one moment, gone the next
Like the moon and his stories
not so much written as impressed
on the hearts of generations
like fancy stationary with raised monograms
Such an eloquent orator, that moon
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
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June
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- Quack quack waddle waddle
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June
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Uh-nice, uh-poEM, about the uh-MOoOn!!
ReplyDeleteso many great lines, well done
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