What the Moon Must Think

What the moon must think.
When She looks down.
Every night and some
days, she sees the
greenery, lush valleys.
The neon blue waters.
From her view,
the colors, electric.

She has empty caverns,
shades of clouded gray.
Shadows, once rivers,
dried and wasted.
But when the Sun
shows favor, This Moon
outshines any Earth.

Every person on this Soil
admires her wealth.
Taking an ample Sun’s
offerings, she pulls each
brilliant ray, swallows
it whole as if it were hers
from the beginning.

We gaze up.
She looks down.
The Moon, the Earth,
each longing for the
the other’s charms.
Each thinking,
If only I had what
she has, then I, too,
could shine.

Susan Ward Trestrail, 2017


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