Hard Rock Moon
It hovers over leafless trees
and stalks the cold… warmed-hued.
Yet people fail to leave it be
for its always after you.
It's dents and marks scar it's face
and punches bruise it too.
But on this moon it has an ear,
its red, white, and blue.
This Hard Rock Moon is glowing white,
a rock, ancient and old by the clock.
And yet she bathes us in her light,
though she's just a cold rock.
Her only beauty,
one small thing it seems.
Her glowing radiance,
and oh! How she beams!
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