Terre et Lune

Ah, la lune est brisée, said the child
to the half moon. She stared, pointing her finger
at the night sky. Her sudden true and wild
thought broke over us both, like the waves
the moon pulled from the fevered sea.
We stood beneath the stars we couldn’t see
but knew were there in pairs, while the single
moon shone its broken light. There are days
when the world seems ruined beyond repair,
a doomed ship whose crew has lived recklessly.
We wave our white flags but can’t be saved.
We flash our SOS to no one there
except the moon, earth’s companionable ghost,
the world’s blessed and broken communion host.

Photo by Magnus Östberg on Unsplash