The Moon
by: Zanzibar

The Moon too has its awkward transitions
From slender crescent to beaming gibbous
The half-moon intervenes, geometric.

A Dream, still wet from his midnight swimming
Is dripping moonbeams upon my dark floor
It forms pools in squares beneath my windows.

My eyes spy by the mirror's reflection
His footprints that I will mop by daylight
Careless dream, he whirls away with the sky

And myself, dark-eyed observer of night
Reflected: Here, not safe in starless void
Once full, hoping to be made new again