A Man Who Loves the Moon

A Man Who Loves the Moon

A man who loves the moon
owns a heart
yearning to be elsewhere.
He smells like silver,
tarnished
a ghost orchid in rain.
His dreams scatter and twitter
like milkweed fluff.
He knows the moon is a D
para Dios if waxing
and a C para Christos if waning.
He cannot recall
how it is you met,
but always remembers
how it is you stick
together.

Written for:

ID: 1615036   (Rated: 13+) Defining Poetry: Contest  CLOSED. Not your average poetry contest. The ultimate prize is knowledge. by emerin-liseli

Mary Oliver is a favorite poet and "Wild Geese" a favorite poem----I always thrill to the opening lines of this poem---You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

I will apologize here and admit that at this time in my life I don't have enough time to devote to writing. But I yearn to express and create----I am using this forum to continue to write and learn and be inspired. Hopefully when time permits I can polish these explorations.

That said, this poem was written in the short line lengths that Mary Oliver most often employs and always with the influence of nature. I was also inspired by this week's forerunner poet William Wordsworth and his poem "Strange Fits of Passion I have Known"...I was struck by his moon imagery and though often overused knew that I wanted to again use moon imagery in my weekly entry.

As I finish this entry the moon is full and the soft animal of my body is loving what it loves.
As Valentine's Day approaches this poem is also a gift to my love, my husband David.

As I view this contest as less a competition and more as an exploration I am enclosing an older poem written in homage to Mary Oliver.

ID: 1427541   (Rated: E) We (for Mary Oliver)  for the Writer's Cramp by ridinghhood--new knees