Horizon

The moon came down to be her lover sometimes,

Full and generous,

Sinking low over the treetops and streetlamps.

A deep, fruitful yellow.

The pale inside of a pear.

Its seduction made her shy,

A face so round and so close,

So beautiful and so brief.

Soon it would tire of her attention,

Drift away, as if avoiding her at a party.

High and white and cold,

Keeping company only with the stars.

Still beautiful, but distant.

It was all in the mind, of course.

A moon metaphor for her long drive home.

Still.

One moment it whispered tenderly,

And golden light stroked her face,

But then in an hour it was away,

Flying amongst the stars and clouds,

As if it had never danced and preened for her.

It was all in the mind, of course,

But it still hurt.

@chainedinshadow