Recording The Moon

– moon through the trees,

A tired, shining face;

The very smell of moon

Seasoned with pollen –

Why must I record?


My life’s a postcard

Never to be sent,

A camera set to run, a blinking eye,

A capsule for him to open in some other time or place.


I am a ghost town

In the desert dust,

Waiting for one who never went away,

Waiting, forever waiting, for the day he might pass by.


Somebody’s cat

Tiptoeing through the leaves;

No longer lived-in house

Dark under ivy; polished, empty rooms –




Painting: A Dance Around The Moon by Charles Altamont Doyle

One thought on “Recording The Moon

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s