It was the sun and moon and me
It was the sun and moon
and me.
I sensed there were others,
but none I could see
that spring evening,
on the balcony
of the rickety house
with the broken screen.
To my left,
Sun was old and low,
going the way
all days and lives go.
To my right,
pink Moon rose
to light the night
and inspire poets.
Up in a corner overhead,
Mademoiselle Spider
had crafted her web.
Droplets
caught from morning storms
glistened
within the intricate form.
Sir Dragonfly
sped past my head,
then stopped to hover
in front of the web,
spending endless energy;
Miss Spider just waited,
patiently.
The screen door whacked
as a breeze puffed past;
I’ve tried many times,
but can’t fix the latch.
It’s fine for a while
then whack, whack!
I try to ignore it, but it comes right back.
I envied the home
Miss Spider weaved,
with equal
strength and artistry.
Zen-like beauty of her ilk
came from the space
between the silk.
Sir Dragonfly
was clearly smitten
and with no fear
of being bitten,
landed
near to Mademoiselle;
a dandy match if I say so myself.
I don’t know why
that screen won’t stay.
Could be the hinges,
or a crooked frame.
It might want oil,
I don’t know.
I wouldn’t let it spoil my night though.
Sun went shy,
and hid his fire\
behind Horizon
as he died.
Come the dawn
he’ll rise to new life…
now was Moon’s
true cue to shine.
Left Right
Sun Moon
Day Night
Old New
Leave Stay
Fall Rise
Ruin Create
Death Life
Contrast gifts us
clarity;
sunset here
is sunrise there, you see.
I left the balcony that evening
wiser from the company of
Sun Moon
Dragonfly Spider
Broken Screen
and me.
Lee DeNoya - April 2023, Atlanta