HPN

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Poetry of Issue #8        Page 50

Lunar Love

They say her hidden side is dark,
but it’s simply far. Locked in tidal swells,
she shows us the same face every night.

An asteroid passed close to earth
during the last supermoon
on the first day of spring.

She loomed high above the softened ground
where earthworms rose up to feed famished birds.
Selenophiles, we flaunt our love of the heavens.

No cure exists for our fixation.
A gold globe or yellow slice of sky.
The stars and moon stay true night after night.

Redemption arrives on cloud-filled days when she hides.
Or afternoons when her straying spirit burns bright.



  Amy Barone