The moon dangles low in the sky
Pendulous and swollen with yin
She pours yellow light over the people
Blessing them, affecting them
The night is pregnant with her influence
I am unsettled yet productive
The cat, especially susceptible, is yowling
And by the time I get to bed
Which I have cleaned obsessively
I have three perfect scratches on my breast
From tangling with his derangement.
The night is full
The moon is young
Tomorrow is Friday
And what will the people do
Under the powerful influence
Of such a moon?
Will they drink their sad
Will they fight their anger
Will they see their fear
Will they fall in love.
The stars have joined her company.
Orion draws his bow
The Pleiades cluster shyly behind him
And the moon loves them all
She loves night best
But vacates her seat from time to time
Stepping into day, disregarding order.
She had tea with the sun just yesterday
A nudge to remind him there are other, subtler gods.
Tonight she glows with his bright memory.