Moon-bathing

In the silent, comfortable company of nobody

Naked, I immerse myself ‘til soaked in silver light that falls

Is the Moon looking at me?

Quixotically, quicksilver, time passing all too soon

And I’m dancing with a salacious, silver, shining ball

Am I looking at the Moon?

Bright, so blinding bright that I cannot see

Insane, exotic madness initiates its call

Is the Moon looking at me?

The sublime lines of Claire de Lune

Hypnotic highs and lows envelope me within its thrall

Am I looking at the Moon?

A once-dark, haunted landscape becomes a white sea

Shimmering grass and tall trees covered by a ghostly grey shawl.

Is the Moon looking at me?

In a luminous looniness drunken swoon

I experience the whole world so differently

Am I looking at the Moon?

Or is the Moon looking at me?

by Stephen Thatcher

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