Nicolette Makanaka Poet Free verse

I try to hold the moon but it slips through my fingers

I try to hold the moon,
but it slips through my fingers.

It's beauty is ethereal,
a glow that never seems to dim.
It feels so close—
yet when I reach,
the distance between us reveals itself. Stretching farther.

Just as I believe
I might catch it,
the sun arrives,
and the moon dissolves—
as if it never existed,
as if it were all my imagination.

Once, the moon chased after me,
slow and steady.
But now I chase the moon—
too fast.
It's too far ahead.
I see only the footprints
it leaves behind.

It always wins the race.

And in the end,
I try to hold the moon,
but it slips through my fingers
whenever the sun rises.
For time moves too quickly,
and my youth fades like moonlight at dawn.

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