what sets apart the moon
that hangs over a stream of streetlights?
through my eyes, i see its craters
through the lens of a camera
it takes the shape of childhood -
like drawings of the sun
through glass panes, vision blurred,
my glasses hanging off my chest?
marking an ending, a beginning. . .
it's a distinct white crescent
white like bleached corals
under vibrant blue ocean waters,
or blue reflections on this window
when night looms, the auburn horizon dims
and falls behind a silhouette of endless trees, black
lining an endless road, dark. . .
crescent moon, where have you gone?
Barkat.S 