Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Goodnight Moon

On the coldest night
Under a gauzy moon
Lovers twine bodies,
Newborns draw breath,
Children wake startled,
Cats yowl, or lie in wait,
And the aged or infirm
Toss and turn, but for
A few who on this eve
Will shudder, heave,
And take their leave.

Scientists will fan out
Sheaves of evidence,
Will claim that Earth
Knows one moon, not
Two, nor four or more.
But poets may object:
Does the lovers' moon
Cast light soft and sweet,
Its aim just this: to flatter?
While the dying are lying
Beneath a moon sallow
Grey and cratered, one
Far more apt to flash
Its darkly hidden half?


alejna said...

Beautiful, Sarah.

V-Grrrl @ Compost Studios said...

ooh. love your take on the dark side of the moon...

Mary Gilmour said...

Ooh that's a cold, cold poem. Like an icicle. Brrr.

Janet said...

Cold, yes, but lovely. And completely right.

Christine said...

That moon sees so, so much. Great poem Sarah.

Helen Richardson said...

I definitely enjoyed that! Great poem.

Emily said...