How sad the moon must be
centuries of poets explain
to hang so dimly in the sky
vague beacon in the rain
circle behind passing clouds
gazing down from her jail
of crooked cracking branches
Someone unlock the moon
Lord can you release her
to the glory of flying free
through the changing light
of geometric space
unhindered by human vanity
no longer a wan symbol—
Photo by Kym MacKinnon on Unsplash
