The moon, manless, has no thought
For its beauty
It waxes and wanes
As geometry dictates.
Tugging tides, inspiring poems,
Taunting astronauts:
It could be said to do these
If it were not a lump of rock.
On Earth its path is carefully tracked
Noted, calculated, observed
But the Moon needs no map
Only the pulls of gravity.
No comments:
Post a Comment