Out of Phase

Dec 27 2011

When you are a child

everything is as it should be

no matter what.

A green planet

that circles a yellow sun.

A single moon

that comes, and goes, each month.

Later, you will realize

your parents have a life of their own.

The teachers do not live at school.

Bad people

look perfectly normal.

If there were 2 moons

the tides would pile up-and-up,

swamp us

as we slumber.

Blue moons

would happen more than once,

miracles

become ho-hum.

We’d sing romantic songs

still croon

our soft seductions,

but in the brightness
feel humbler.

Too shy

to get undone.

Still, their light would shine on us

half a world away,

we’d both look up

and see the sky

the same.

Sharing a view

may be small consolation,

a multiplicity of moons

confusing.

But try to see the lunacy

of 2 full moons,
of intersecting phases.

Still, I am grateful

things turned out as they should.

A sliver of moon

I foretell for you

half a world apart.

A yellow sun

that lights you up

wherever on earth you are.

In my mind’s eye.

And all the more

at night.