Last Night

a poem

Ganapathy Kumar/Unsplash (edited)

Last night, I glimpsed the moon/ through the slats
of the blind/ and first of all/ I thought
it must be a particularly bold
streetlight/ which sadly shows/ how far
my expectations have/ shrunk
below the parapet.

It hung high up at a perfect tilt/ with
the mother of all gleams/ a pearly queen’s button
lustrous, serene/ sewn by strong fingers
into the dark expanse of night.

and the overlay of the blind/ turned
this perfect sphere into a surrealist/ vision
sliced with razor shell precision

allowing/ fragments
of healing silver

to drop

onto weary lids.

**