full moon

the moon is never
closer than
this night.
it leans fat
and whole,
beyond the whitest
of whites.
you can almost
reach out and
feel the cool
silt wrinkled
on its ageless
brow.
it makes you wish
it had never
been touched,
but had been left
for lovers,
for poets and children
for all those that wish
upon stars,
and dream too
much.