a poem-

Marvel at the moon. It doesn’t matter how.
Sit on any porch. The moon, it always watches back.
Take a sip of moonlight, touch it to your lips.
Let your knees find soiled ground and raise your eyes-
I admire the moon for having lack of contact.
I admire the moon for being consistent.
I admire the moon because it admires
each of us who are looking back.
Every dusky evening, until it hides, but not on purpose.
It’s too aware to be gone without warning.
We all need to understand being gone before being back again.
Marvel at the moon. It doesn’t matter how.
It lent its shadow, all the way to me-
and while it removed my disbelief I saw the moon dance.
I marvel at the moon because it found its way.

-M. Taggart
copyright 2018
Thank you for reading

8 thoughts on “a poem-

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