Halloween Moon

A full-gorged moon opens its illumined glare, a limpid dementia with predatory eyes. It enters bedrooms, cellars, attics creeps into crawl-spaces, follows us into slumber to raise the bones of shipwrecked dreams, and snare the unborn in their unformed wombs, dark seeds are planted there before any egg is laid. A Luna light engenders an iridescence of last-hope. !t changes the stories told yesterday into heart-breaking legends on the cracked face of a celestial delirium. In daylight some call out: “Did you see that moon last night?” They answer: “No, I must have missed it,” but their crazy eyes tell a different story.