When Worlds Collide

    
Hard to catch my breath, like the moon sliced thinly

slivered to eighths, and thirds and halves tonight,

bitten, smothered, and bloodied, but largely ignored.

Has the moon absorbed ALL the air for its survival?

I gasp. And the battle rages outside the shop window,

the moon wrestling for light, struggling in the shadow.

Crescent beam rests on the palm frond near defeated,

gasping for a second wind before a last laser sabre stab.

And then–fade to dust, blackened sky longing, airless.

“Oh black night, I rest inside you, my Jonah, forgotten,

caged bones’ anonymity, unheard, unseen–un-re(a)d.”