Harvest Moon

by Samuel De Lemos

 

Did you know?

When
you married me,
you married a poet?

A man who
suffers in this
paradoxical world
of intertwined
terror and
beauty.

A man who stares at
the moon
like a half-crazed
wolf.

Howling,
as its magnificent
shape

caresses
your
emerald colored eyes.

A man who cringes

and
goes numb
from seeing
injustice.

My eyes
feel the love and
weep.

They close at night.

And, are open again
at dawn,

like the rising and
falling tide that’s

affected by the
harvest moon

that same
shadowy-white
voluptuous sphere,

that enables
predators to prey
at night.

How is it
that you’ve become, a bitter torment for some,
and a sweet reflection for many more?

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