we make
more of it than it deserves.
what does it do
to get such attention?
but poets and lovers.
astronomers
and children.
stare into its face.
point up at its shape,
it's brightness
and color,
and say look, look at the moon
tonight.
it's just a rock, a lifeless orb
reflecting sunlight
in the sky
and yet
a thousand times
a thousand
poems have been penned
about it.
yes.
it's just the moon,
just the moon.
but i can't imagine
a world without it.
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