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To the Moon on the Subject of Darkness
Landing –
Phosphor lapping at the edges
of the shore, mingled
with moonlight, full upon the swaying
of your bower – nightingales are still
now silent in the cedars, awed
by the disturbance of clouds
across the face of Artemis –
O, Orion has not yet risen
from his bed to join you, perpetually
waiting – wind
n the willow oaks – sway
with them, sleeping
in the slack water
your dreams
tremble
in the resoundment.
by Peter Shefler
Previously published in St. Julian Press
To the Moon on the Subject of Darkness
If anyone ever addressed you, it was
with a breathless “where are you going?” R.M. Rilke
I have been waiting
and now you appear
between dark branches
luminous as a man
who has seen the edge
of the universe. I've missed
you and asked questions
of everything white:
frost birch and fog,
an egret feather that fell
into the palm, snow's possibility
of rumor, even your missing
reflection but night
moved to the bed
of the river and stood nude
and mute in its shadow.
The sky, like me, emptied too,
but for a few stars
who dared to tell
you were the same
moon who made a mirror
of yourself in the white
fruited Rowan, who sheltered the poet
as he slept in the cradle
of the sphinx. The one
who lit the face
of Buddha as he realized
that nothing is ever lost
in the universe. The last time
I saw you, you were waning
gibbous, floating east as a daydream,
in the blue. Like Orion I have learned
to wait. I can lose this belt of stars.
We are, each of us, astronomers
and I am not afraid to leave you alone
with what is yours.
by Lois P. Jones
Previously published in St. Julian Press
To the Moon on the Subject of Darkness
by Lois P. Jones
Copyright 2011
Landing -
Photography and Poem as Invocation
by Peter Shefler
Copyright 2011
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