From Bernard Beard

Cheshire, England


I’m outside tonight because I read
shooting stars may be overhead.

If there is a man in the moon
He should be pleased tonight
for a small white cloud
chased by a breeze
somersaulted over his head.

Following it, some wisps of cloud
trailed a veil across his face.
I felt that the moon was staring at me
but couldn’t make me out;
and then, as if to go to sleep,
it pulled a cloud-made blanket
over its head; but it soon peeped out.

The moon went on quite leisurely.
Opposing it, a bank of cloud
formed like a blue-grey hill.
Behind the moon a small round cloud
tried to be Sisyphus in disguise
and roll the moon to the top of the hill
but both were soon absorbed.

The dark cloud passed and the moon went on.
Then I saw a shooting star
spear into a branched grey cloud;
and wondered if Artemis had
taken over from The Man?

But I was cold, and it started to rain.
I left the moon and clouds to their fate;
and went to bed.

© Bernard Beard 2010

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