The Moon is hanging out in the sky
full of itself ready to explode with orange-gold dust all over the streets sprinkling
on the river. It is heavy, pregnant, like a stray cat mewing and rubbing
against my leg begging for attention.
If I walk away, it won’t.
It stays- like just another Tuesday
night. Nothing else matters and the Moon lands like a giant spaceship (A twist on the idea of moon landing) settling
here
Near
And maybe a secret door will open,
like the door in The Giant Peach which travelled across the Atlantic Ocean
housing insects, and James. Pulled by thick silk strands from a giant, blind frightened silk worm, in the beaks of sea gulls.
The Moon will land in Sheep’s
Meadow at midnight. No one will see it arrive
Or leave.
What will it leave in its wake?
Giant, friendly insects
Lost children searching for a home
A plate of enchiladas
An idea of something more
Moon
