Poetry from a Maxine Rose Munro
Took the moon
I reached out and took the moon
in my hand. I know others think
she's still there in the blueblack
sky lighting the world like always,
but they're wrong. I keep shut
my fist, fingers cage to a celestial
body. Bones shadow skin bursting
with moonlight and I've taken to
wearing mittens. I thought I could
hold her, just for a minute, set her
free, but my hand clenched around
shine too tight to let go and here
we are, each trapped by the other.
She'd leave if she could of course...