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Fragmented Moon

It’s hard to look at the moon these days.

On darkest nights it appears as a haze.

I turn away when it’s over my shoulder/first quarter full/afraid to look back/fearful of what I’ll see.

I missed the half moon completely this month.

No reason to celebrate atomic moon either!/I think it was shrouded.

The last new moon/I saw saw it briefly/but only at a glance.

This time I’m under its pale yellow sliver of light/seeing it fragmented/through a canopy of leaves/hard to define/the distance between pieces/too great to know what it is: or isn’t supposed to be.

Unlike when it was beautiful and whole/running on the clock of the universe/night sky above plunged into the game of endless

splendor.

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