Distant Stars

 

Struck,
we recruit that most madly moon
….(magnetic in her cloudy sway)
to deem us worthy of our carbon,
our base, our centers,
our side
-real longings.

She’s a powdered compact,
a mask we choose to pull
from sky with whip
-or-will invisibility,
a seek of strange,
the full range of night
jars calling.

Frozen,
we’re still
…..falling.


..
Written for Poetic Asides


This entry was posted in moon poems, poetic asides poems and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Distant Stars

  1. qbit says:

    I want to be deemed worthy of my carbon!

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