Sometimes the tiny angels
designated to care for the
balloon of the moon,
choose instead to frolic,
tying its invisible silk string
to some ancient tree on
the other side of night
as they go hopscotching
over endless clouds.
Occasionally the moon
breaks free of its cocooned knot,
longing to see earth's beauty
in the light of day that is
denied it in the darkness.
Much to the awe of children below,
still dallying in delightful play at dusk,
and adding romance to the lovers
who walk hand in hand
on the beaches near sunset.
The sun who is a jealous hothead
does a slow burn at this intrusion,
its face bright red on the horizon
that holds stereo orbs.
But it is an old star well-raveled
across the stages of heaven's show
he knows its exits well
when the lights begin to dim,
and so he slips behind the
curtain of gray descending
leaving the moon
to embrace and entrance
audience of the night.
Sometimes the tiny angels
designated to care for the
balloon of the moon,
choose instead to frolic,
tying its invisible silk string
to some ancient tree on
the other side of night
as they go hopscotching
over endless clouds.