Forever Forlorn

The moon was half last night
clouds covering
to create a lemon slice table
not quite yellow
more a fair-skinned
Irish child

Like that child
this half-moon smiled
and although it was cheesing,
all gums revealed,
I saw right through
the lunar shroud
of clouds.

I saw an empty face:
the sullen craters
shaping eyes
sunken deep
into its
mind
the
moon
was weeping
for a cloud
to embrace it instead
of erase and
change it.