Walking On The Moon

Walking On The Moon

Since you left

I've been walking on the moon,

in the cold solar shadow, angel- and

demon-forsaken, unmused in a sinless place,

a floating cloud of cosmic diatoms weltering 

in undifferentiated asteroidal algae, working the

eyes of night for some buried beauty, some pandemic

of peace to infect me.

The dark side is

a rock rack, stone bed for the syncope when

white hope exhausts all exits with her rapid retreat.

I undrill in the dustbaths, naked in wallows of comet collisions,

bathed in dunes of ruthless radiance, where stars are

sprinkled in spilled saltgrains over eternity, vague and

sharp on the black velvet tablecloth

I once wore for a dress.

The sun side is harsh, but

even I tire of constant dark at times;

and I know it's the side you see, fat harlequin

croissant of a sickle honeyed with words defying

gravity, toasted in the gold heat of your almondine eyes.

I live on the grilling grid, fancy you making a meal

brioched of dark chocolate void where somehow

I've flavored the filling in dreams.

I walk on and on

light as the dead and sometimes

I find debris; yesterday an artifact

cast from the celestial dig of thee and me,

a vessel that used to glow, pounded to atomic dust, settled

in the flattened shardshape of a heart where I stepped

silent, and stood with the sudden choke

of moon in my throat.

June 2012

Posted for   OpenLinkNight   at dVerse Poets Pub


If you'd like to hear the poem read by the author, click below:

walking on the moon by Hedgewitch O'theWilds

Header image: A Voyage to the Moon, by Gustave Dore, 1868, engraving

Public domain via Wikipaintings.org

Footer Image: Moon @ Utrecht-zuillen, by HSmade, on flick'r

Shared under a Creative Commons License