The Man In The Moon
He used to frighten me in the nights
of childhood,
the wide adult face, enormous, stern, aloft
I could not imagine such loneliness, such coldness
But tonight as I drive home over
these hilly roads
I see him sinking behind stands of winter trees
And rising again to show his familiar face
And when he comes into full view
over open fields
he looks like a young man who has fallen in love
with the dark earth
a pale bachelor, well-groomed and
full of melancholy
his round mouth open
as if he had just broken into song.
This reminds me of driving at night. When the trees or city open up and "he comes into full view." I never thought of the moon as sad or singing. Maybe that will be a cool idea tonight when I look for the moon.
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