mother moon–

your radiance glimmers
like fireflies between blankets
of jealous clouds, fighting
for your affections,


but you don’t mind–

that scandalous smile
as you part the suitors,
your brilliant figure dances free
to light up the night,


no fear–

The moon's a dying ember
This evening in late September

A ***** copper coin
Resting on her porcelain ****

A mosaic of Ancient Corinth
As the soldiers passed
In blood-red rags
And orange

(c) Rafael Alfonzo