Full Moon
Slack-jawed milk-face,
what provokes this staring?
*
Snowball flecked with soot
from a busy street’s
foot-traffic
*
Queen of tides, of lunatics,
of Sir Philip Sidney
*
Sovereign of the heavens,
bride of the night,
why are you yawning?
am I boring you?
*
Glowing clock whose hands
have been de Milo'd away
*
Cataracted eye
that sees things feelingly
*
Marble that God's finger sends
slowestly arc-ing across the sky
*
Michelangelo,
get to work!
*
Circle of light
that a wayfarer’s torch
casts upon the asphalt
*
Coin of spendless silver
in the Virgin Mary's pocket
Poetry by Uncle Meridian
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Written on 2024-05-03 at 21:42
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