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Centripetal
The crimson moon bawls on his flight
Doleful to be condemned to night
His samba partner teems with life
Yet he hangs listless filled with strife
Whilst craters pock his dusty face
Her smooth profile glows soft with grace
Waves splash coyly along her skin
As parching drought afflicts the twin
Halo membranes caress her soul
While he claims little to extol
He’s locked away from that embrace
Like a buckle upon her waist
Sequestered on his lofty perch
He ponders how to end his lurch
He tries to shake his mantle free
So he can float with meek debris
Just as he starts to drift away
He hears whispers begin to play
Prayers hailing romance twist his ear
Until he melts away from fear
Maybe those folks below can see
Just how lonely the moon can be
Words purify to help him heal
His love for her shall make him real
Copyright ©
John Weber
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