Without its moon the night
walks by forlorn
and passes slowly
on its drowsy lead-feet
moaning ash-cloaked
to the graveyard up above.

Without its moon the night
and I are left alone.

The night looking for its moon

This answers the question to the prompt at toads “What if the moon disappeared tomorrow?”

Also linking to Tuesday Platform at toads.

February 18, 2018

17 responses to “Moonlack

  1. Now I want a whole series of these where you vary one letter of the title for each … i.e., Moonluck, Moonlick, Moonlace, Moonlock, Moonback, Moonjack, Moonsack, Moodlack. Ya dig?

    This is so cool:

    “moaning ash-cloaked
    to the graveyard up above”

    I love the idea of the night sky being a graveyard and the stars its markers. Maybe the moon doesn’t want to be surrounded by death all the time, so she plunges toward her reflection and into a lake. 🙂 She’s hiding out as a naiad somewhere now.

  2. I love what your poem says about balance. How its lines embrace both science and feels, reminding the reader that we won’t drop dead on the spot if the moon was to vanish, but… oh, how it would break us, how it would fill us with the sort of loneliness that changes everything.

    Those feet and that cloak feel so heavy.

  3. Hard to imagine it, but then again… maybe not. Why does darkness evoke isolation? If tonight the moon disappeared I’d be over here bumping in to people and tripping over the cat. 🙂

  4. The idea of the night without the moon as “moaning ash-cloaked to the graveyard up above,” is so apt and chilling! Brilliant write, Bjorn ❤

  5. This speaks to me of the grieving process, how the absence of something well-loved and so familiar that we took it for granted makes any movement feel overwhelming.

  6. We (finally!) had a few clear moments in which we could view the huge, brilliant Snow Moon just before dawn in this morning’s 9-below-zero sky. Ahhhh…
    Thanks for sharing this wonderful poem.

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