awe and beauty

You told me to write about tonight’s blood moon 

   as if a spectre was some rarity.

Something shining has always been closer, so much closer

   than the skies. A stumbled polaroid captured your eyes

one night. They are classical oases of

   midnight music

   novel, nocturnal, noble, natural.

Come dawn, and the dusk after; I surmised 

perhaps Selene herself entrusted you lunar eyes 

to flood the world with symphonic lagoons. 

   I love that you behold life, with the congruent awe I grant the moon.

© Mollie Mardel