Twenty-Nine

tonight, the moon is an aged yellow

bobbing playfully low, brushing elbows

with the serious black mountains, just

shadows of some inner density we can see

neither in night nor day

tonight, her yellow is not smooth, but curvaceous,

toned and shaded, which makes me think she is quite

provocative. dangling so close to the land

i feel she is closer to me. she must have

seen my day. she must know.

her yellow reminds me of sad,

and a friend

who i speak to sometimes.

she is so close to that mountain,

i can feel her elbow nudging me.