blue moon
a late night observation

from the kitchen window I see you
pushing away from the blanket of grey cloud
 
your silvery light pulsates in a clear patch of sky
serenaded by abbey bells
 
a scattering of stars keep a respectful distance
as if they know something special
is about to happen
 
an icy wind disturbs the bare branches of the plane tree
as I stand waiting
feeling dismayed as you sink back
into your cloudy bed
 
an echo of your light remains
a glimmer and then gone
like the dying embers of a fire
 
the sound of bells lives on in the darkness
 
then like the actress you are
you reappear at exactly the right time
to show the partial eclipse
in your bottom right hand quarter
 
a shadow
like a bite out of an apple
or a gloomy presence at a New Year party

Sue Johnson

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