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.
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