photoart: ralph murre
She’s a
Lady
by
Phil Hansotia
Just
a bit past twilight
standing
on the shores of Europe
Bay
I
saw her slip behind a thin veil.
Her
face glistening and the silver of her eyes
dancing
on Michigan
The
moon is a lady.
Driving
home on hump of Door’s peninsula
I
saw a large, yellow melon,
rise
in slow harvest off horizon’s edge,
a
train of golden glow, trailing like
a hesitant bride dragging her feet.
The
moon is a lady.
Stretched
on Newport
I
saw her full plump face
shrouded
in a downy halo
gliding
slowly across a clear ocean
of
dark, like a lofty liner,
smug,
aloof, brightly lit, self-absorbed,
Lady
Lunar was on her way.
She
may be a trifling satellite
on
astronomer’s charts
strapped
to a small dance floor,
whirling
to her own Dervish chant.
In
her world she is timeless beauty,
riveting
our caressing gaze.
Yes,
the moon is a lady.
~
first published in the Peninsula Pulse
