As the sun leaves my sight,
The moon will set up her stage.
With the stars and planets
as her backup dancers.
I remember at night,
I would sit on a child stool,
With my pigtails and stuffed animals,
Wrapped up in a blanket,
And I’d watch her
as she rose into the spotlight.
And even as I grew,
I stopped watching her concerts as often,
She still shines brightly
on the billions of people below her.
I wonder if she knows
of all the songs, movies, books
That are all about her,
how people imagine her character,
There are even some that say
she’s in love with the sun.
I wonder how she feels
about angels, or clouds, even stars,
Or maybe the moon is simply, just a moon.