Thursday Twofer: Something, Something, Moon...

                         Lover’s Moon

Unfazed, I take in the moon at last light

and know too well the deep of night that follows—

but only for a short while,

the light to come again—

like some welder’s torch delicately glazed the rim,

an arc in time signaling more light to come,

and then into its fullness it should follow,

or perhaps no,

for only this night’s light is given—

but by a faith we believe in the light to come,

darkness to follow,

the light to come,

darkness to follow—

while I stand stoking a fire that skyward chases sparks

that rise like a thousand red bees

flickering into a kind of nothingness,

lost in the starry sky,

and now I so stirred,

will wait to see should the moon come round again.

Ladson 2013

Lune Maladie

Oh, lunatic poets (all liars too)

who would have us romance under a full moon

(closer to be sure than old father sun)

but stepping outside into the frosty air

(such a night so full and bright)

no warmth to come round out there

just a casting of a cold white light

(across the river and through the trees)

that cannot warm a heart 

(not even hands, feet, nary a nose)

as anyone who hears their tunes knows

we have merry songsters (I know not how)

who rhyme the moon to woo as well

might this night be bettered if silent

than crooning tales of long lost love

laboring on behalf of hearts

that too many miles apart

beat unheard,

poor lovers beyond the pale,

now ill-lumined thus, ever to remain.

Ladson 2013