-- The Thief Moon –

John Herlihy

The lunar thief will finally swoon,

In the light of the sunrise.

A pared fingernail of a moon

Ascends before the dawn of a new day.

For one final journey,

The lunar craft has traversed the night.

A pale sliver of itself,

Plies the waters of darkness with its meagre light.

The thief moon,

Rising into the thickest part of night.

Enough to see but not seen,

Protective shadows shimmering in stolen light.

With stars glowing furiously,

The moon lies in the shadow of itself.

Bewitching the night gloriously,

Amid the posturing fireflies, an elf.

All those tiny jewels,

So very bright, so blue cold, so distant far.

The lights of the deepest heavens,

Like show flakes, each a unique individual star.

Eyes of angels,

In the dark bowl of the firmament.

Heavenly bangles,

Their silence holds the secret of their intent.

With teardrop eyes,

The stars as witness of joy and sorrow.

When a tear falls,

A new star born in the dream of tomorrow.

The stars hover,

Layer upon layer reaching for earth’s bower.

The moon as mother,

With a dusting of light, fine as flour.

Such stellar company,

Does the phantom moon deserve this?

Awe and mystery,

Freely bestowed to evoke lasting bliss.

The thief moon,

Its final run in the lunar cycle.

The ancient barge,

Now but a shadow of itself, a trifle.

The thief moon,

Now fleeing into the depths of blue.

The cry of the loon,

Sings a personal lament of what it knew.

The moon disappearing,

Against the brightening shield of the day.

In the daylight,

The thief moon surrenders, then quietly slips away.

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Copyright © John Herlihy

Monday 16 August 2021