It’s been a long, stressful week for me this time around, so rather than a hefty blog post, I thought I’d share this little work-in-progress poem I wrote about the moon.
I can always see it from the window in my dorm at night, so it’s been on my mind. Writing about it has been a good mental break for me, so hopefully reading it does the same for you.
Anyway, here’s the poem, currently untitled:
Why doesn’t anyone write about the moon on its off days?
It’s always milky white,
A platinum plate,
A one-eyed goddess,
Presiding over the tides,
Hanging above evergreen forests,
And illuminating lovers’ eyes.
Where are the poems about the gibbous moon,
Rushing half-naked across the sky?
Or the verses about the moon eclipsed,
Blushing red as it stumbles between us and the sun?
Where are the lines that acknowledge
That the moon is a pearl,
But also a rock?