Moon Mirror Mind

falling fruit & brambles darken the underbrush

where we find ourselves again, doing what we do

going the long way home, wanting more

something to burn to prove something alive

but there’s no going that way by night

the waves are rough skinned, the pitched slope rugged

poison even, in all the attractive flowers

the moon hangs there untouched silent

it becomes strange the more time it consumes

leaving an aura where it wavers in floodwaters

turned by chance to become itself, a beacon

in the face of everything, it has nothing

or it is nothing

but a way of being

that is home everywhere

o, to evaporate inside the mirror

the mirror of the moon mind

where we find ourselves lost again