Fingernail Moon

 

A fingernail Moon slipped across the sky,

A rocking horse without a saddle,

A slit in a black velvet cape, or a tiny hook, 

But nothing you could hang your hat on. 

I have known Moon all my life, or have I?

Waxing or waning, I am not sure which.

Gibbous or full, new or blue, Moon’s phases escape me.

Neil Armstrong took a step, yet never explained.

Of this I am certain, no Man in the Moon

She is a Woman, pale and lovely,

In a mantle of stars, tidal surges ebb and flow,

Night light for youth lost in love.

Moonlight, twilight, daylight,

They are all the same, birthed by the sun,

Casting shadows my way.  I hold up my thumb

Moon is gone.

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