Does he still believe the moon can love a man?
The radiance she paints him with is serene,
and I can’t compete with her creamy white hand.
Dreaming of orbits, Bendis, Cheng-o, Selene.
This is a man who gazes at the Cosmos.
I asked him, “Why do you only love the Moon?”
Man of parallax, man of missing shadows,
a tide without heart, a tangled silver rune.
I was jealous of the moon. The man worships
a luminary that will never love him,
and I am so much more than stars and spaceships!
This man gazes at a moon without heart when
he could have loved both Artemis and poet,
while the moon would cycle on and not know it.
…from the collection Hard Rime, this sonnet was published by Outrider Press in “The Moon,” 2017.
