The Buchtelite

Spotlight of the Full Moon

%28Image+via+Pixabay%29
(Image via Pixabay)

(Image via Pixabay)

(Image via Pixabay)

By Jordan Wood, Guest Poet

There’s supposed to be a full moon

tonight, they said.

There’s supposed to be blood

in the moon they said.

There’s blood inside me

but that doesn’t make me a marvel to look at either.

Well which is it I ask

to myself as I go out.

As I stand there barefoot on the mushy earth

As I stand there watching a thing of beauty transform

In the radiant glow, I embrace the acid that falls from her

crimson visage.

I embrace the frosty sting of her breath

on my skin, as I realize I forgot my coat inside.

I’m transfixed in this spot

in just my PJs.

I live in these old things basically

so it’s no big deal.

Really it’s not.

Not unlike this shell, I have to carry on my back.

This old shell has seen its days for sure

and been around the block more times than I care

to admit.

It’s worn and has its fair share of cracks

many of which are from me.

Have I told you about the one time at the park?

It was a real hoot.

But I’ve gotten used to my shell over time

and call it my own.

Just like her highness up there

always looking down at us

always watching but never being watched

always hoping to shed light in lives.

Tonight though she is the Grand Empress of us all

and commands our respect with her maroon body.

I stand at attention

giving her homage

not because she demands it

but because she is beautiful

and so am I.

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