A Hunter’s Moon of power shines today;
and we are but her ebb and flowful tides.
Some sensing souls are thrown in disarray
while round our greenblue ball she creamly glides.
Reflecting only light from mother’s smile
intensified by monthish phasely flow;
she grasps my sleepless heartbeat for a while
and only later see she’s helped me grow.
From where, I wonder, did your craters come?
Did meteorites invade your virgin space?
When in your tidal waters I have swum
did you infuse me with your limpid grace?
A moonless earth I cannot comprehend.
Without her gravity I’d have no friend.
© Alan Morrison, 2013