Last Quarter (Poetry)

Old Lady Luna’s looking tired tonight
her face half-turned away
she’s on the wane
still beautiful but shedding
a less radiant light
the shadows swarm and cloud her
brow with grey
she seems aloof — maybe
a little vain
and wistful this last quarter
of her reign.

This summer night hangs heavy
as a train
she pulls behind her
the darkly-woven sky spread wide
horizon to horizon
while small hours creep and slowly
turns the tide
obedient as ever to her rule
the sea god waiting faithful in the swell
for dawn to guide his weary lady down
heaven’s staircase — kiss the water — drown
exhausted
in his deep full-fathomed bed.

Now
as she sinks
the darkness peels back a distant inch
reveals a fraction of the day to come
the ocean tugs her ragged hem undone
until she’s thin
and nearly naked — haloed round
with ghosts of lovers sighing in the mist
for countless lost and lonely years
adoring her
who never heeded once their heartsick cries...
too proud perhaps — too far away
and fading fast before a host of eyes
she casts off her flaking crown
dips low
then without regret or ripple
disappears.