The Moon

The Sons and Daughters of distant stars prance
on graves of ancestors, buried far away and in the past
The gravedigger, Time, recalls their former brilliance but lets it pass
allows children to shout…and to sing…and to dance

Once holy ground lays littered and torn
A desolate space of regret and scorn
Yet the tide moves in quickly and batters the shore
and leaves the beach as clean as the day before

We sit and ponder the past, future and present
While the moon phases from hidden in New to beautiful in Crescent
The scars made craters hidden in the shadows lessons
feeling the gravity pull the oceans presence

The girls and the boys break each others hearts
Make a line in the stand that before it reads, “Start”
Feet in the sand, lined up and ready with their fingers apart
they know that its here they’ll part

Never thinking of what the distance might mean
They run faster and faster and finally glean
That there’s such beauty in the great distances between
The Moon and the stars that no one can see


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