Rainbows Around The Moon

Disfigured; the Moon became full

Against her will.

The sky decorated her

With a halo of purple,

Gold, and scarlet.



She frowned down upon Earth;

So much younger, and less scarred

Than she,

Blaming it's abundance

For the veil of false beauty

She felt forced to wear.



She hid then,

Underneath a tarp

Of layered clouds; cursing

In bewilderment and emberassment

The small, harmless stones

That had damaged her flesh,

And wounded her pride.



But the comfort of an

Invisible cloak,

She knew would not hide her forever.



The day would break,

The storm would pass,

And the great stillness

Of star-lit summer skies

Would reveal her in possibly

A more hideous light.



There would be no tarp, or scarf

To hide within on fuller days,

And no magic ringlets

In which to decorate herself with

On the days she felt ugly and rejected

By her own angst and anymosity.



The end of Spring is Summer's rule;

When she skirts the horizon

Denying Eclipse, or Solstace

Beckons her, as well, with the tides,

And the snow-tops thawing.

She will claim she is warm inside

But who is it that trusts in a face

That always hides?



And who is it but the sun

-Earth detached in it's own restraint-

That would reach out to calm her,

In an attempt to show her beauty

Even as she turns a cold shoulder,

And folds to part ways?



I am one-

But she does not listen to me, either.



The lapping wake

On this hull set against the tides,

And the boom of wind on mainsail

Droned out my voice, long ago.



We are out looking for Dolphins

Where there are no school fish

To tempt them to the surface.