Me and the Moon

A playful rapport

with the space-suspended Moon.

“You orbit me,”

I tell it to its face;

just banter.

We’ve weaved through hard times,

me and the Moon

“Where have you been?”

I ask it after the clouds have cleared.

“You look different.”

I think of an African fable;

a mosquito who thinks it matters to an elephant.

“Goodbye,”

it says to the grazing giant, who replies,

“I didn’t know you were there.”

Tonight the moon is sulky;

an unglamorous gibbous

in a cold cloudless sky.

“I know you’re there, Friend,”

I reassure the Moon.

“I'm here too.”