Luna

I
A ghostly apparition
Wrapped in grey rags,
Flitting soundlessly
In the flickering shadows.
Wan and forlorn,
Sickly and pock-marked,
Beggar-lady of the night,
On a broken throne, the Moon.


II
Cheshire cat smile of the moon,
A ruddy sickle against a charcoal sky
Shabby in the city lights,
Robbed of regal black,
Some malevolent deity’s gleeful grin,
Cruelly amused by the shambles
Of her newly broken playground.