Poem: Losing the Moon

Losing the Moon

by Meg Smith

An inch a year or more, and it pushes toward some new patron –
Jupiter perhaps,
or sister folk among the asteroids.
The oceans softly shudder.
The soil moves in a sigh, lonely tendrils rolling out.
What will any of us do without its silver, its sure arc?
No means to trace the track of the rabbit in the snow.
Year by year, the werewolf looks to equilibrium.
I look to you and the light blurs in our bodies,
through the gauze of snow clouds.


Meg Smith is a poet and journalist based in Lowell, Mass., her work has appeared or will appear in the 2010 and 2007 "Dwarf Stars" anthology by the Science Fiction Poetry Association, and in "Astropoetica," "Black Petals," "Dark Sky Magazine," "The Cafe Review," "Dreams And Nightmares," and others.

She can be found here: http://www.poet-in-motion.net/