Every once in a while the moon shows
her featured face
in its vast loneliness
and its unspoken pasts
how many ages did she
relentlessly rise and fall
setting the night a beautiful stage
The clouds stay up late
yearning for a moment in the soft glow
of their mistress
she turns them down, empathic,
casting her shadows.
Last night, she rose a sharp tilted smile,
tonight, a circle of beauty hailing her celibate craft.