Gael Bage

Inconstant Moon

that nightly changes, subtle and bold,
a pale ghost or a beautiful beacon.

The moon rocks - a vibration of light
twinkles down a stream, floats over

moonstones. The breeze ripples silver
on a waterglass face. On wings of dreams

I fly moonbeams through an indigo sky
Luna steals the landscapes colour

leaves various greys, white and silver.
I gaze long, sea change to blueshift

Long bony fingers of pine and the owls
hoo to wooo pierce the quiet of night

Dark trees huddle in silhouette as moon
paints highlights. Angel trumpets blow

climb moonflower vines and pampas grass
wafts eerily in this garden serene.

I watch bemused as several bats write
their signature on this nocturnal scene.