Archives for category: moon

Melancholy’s Baby

I was a glimmering remnant,
a moon sliver she clung to
in the dark void.

I was all that remained
of her innocence and hope,
of her diaphanous love
seeping through the disrepair
of everything that mattered,
though in the end
it altered nothing—
a useless ether.

I was a bookmark,
a singular point
of goodness and perfection
along a fading timeline
well-worn and stained
with tears and wine.

Every investment in her
tenuous future
seemed to sit squarely
on my shoulders
as I marched—
some heroic ambassador
for her desperate country,
even as she secretly entertained
thoughts of self-exile.

Claire Juno, © 2012


…dedicated to my mother


Moon Shine

You didn’t know I was
working on the tides while
we sat together talking.

You face looks like the moon,
you said, and I just smiled
and sat stock still, focused
on something beyond us.

Those blue shadows cast
across the grass are from me,
I said, but you laughed
and took my hand in yours,
not understanding.

You’re all silvery tonight,
you said, and I looked at you,
waiting for you to realize,
but you just gazed intently
like you were wishing something.

We passed the crowds
and one by one, a strange look
in their eyes, as though entranced—

lovers were fighting and fighters
were kissing under dark trees.

And you whispered under your breath,
What’s with everybody tonight?
And I only said whatever it was,
it would pass with the rise of the sun.

Claire Juno, © 2012