why the glass moon is sky crazy, a poem

THE POET BY DAY


have you noticed the many qualities of the night,
the way it can inspire a sudden sense of fantasy,
coming on to you like a dandy, cheeky and strutting

it temps you to pluck its gaudy sequins and string
them into garland or maybe take its hand to skate
across the glass moon or to twirl on the lunatic edge
and the cusp of intuition: oh! the depth of knowing

the night winds leave you breathless; and have you
seen how quiet meditations on midnight hues illuminate
the book of your life like the gold and jewel colors
of a medieval manuscript, moving you page by page

with the fluid movement of an arabesque or the sweet
heat of a lover’s fingers sketching secrets on your heart,
sharing messages like old souls tend to do; then,
in a sudden burst of starlight, you understand

your story, your sunburned days, your hours steeped

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