Daytime moon. Moon like some guy you grew up with
who won't go away. Moon like God's weird tooth.
Won't go away.
Is impersonating a slice of cake. My stupid heart
blinking like I imagine a button
on a black box does
up until and maybe even after
we have given up trying to remember.
I have given up trying to remember
the train's schedule or the quiet that scatters
from its whistle
like the seed head of a dandelion.
I don't know why it makes me feel better
to imagine a child
blowing pollen across a darkened field.
Up on the moon, my friend lies down
beside the ghost of his wife.
Their bed is a block of ice and soon
they are frozen.
On earth, the terrible things
and the beautiful things
continue to happen beside each other.
On the moon in the darkness, nothing.
On earth in the darkness, sometimes
rain swells like applause.