LA BELLA LUNA.

I have the moon to thank
For reminding us of our connections
To people in the west,
As it’s hypnotic beauty looms
Whilst moving across an aristocratic sky
And smiling on my child.

And as the air dries
From watercolour blues to oil rich pigments
The lunar light brightens,
And we say our good nights
As it sails beyond the sea and remains a horizon’s
Length ahead of the dark.

And across Boston’s hearth
It charts it’s never changing course;
Sending eyes and lenses skywards
To seize a glance of its familiar face
Or freeze it in time as it shifts from a cinder
To a sparkling glitter ball.

Then on to Philadelphia,
And the wealth that awaits there,
The debates that have been held there,
And the sweetness of its people
And the heat of early springtime which once
Greeted my arrival.

And finally it is blown
Over Chicago by the fierce breath
Of that city’s best dressed weather,
Where it tethers itself
For longer than intended to shine and send its
Starlight into my lover’s heart.