Lunar Howl

Chill blue.
Mountains mere ink blots,
Trees stretch bony arms.

An orb ascending in the vast
Infinity of space.

Nothing infinite about this space.

I can’t read.
Can’t watch.
Can’t barely breath.

Fake?
It’s all too real.
History unraveling before me.

There’s nothing new under the sun.

Then the remote glow breaks
Over peaks, higher than you.
Higher than me. Higher than this.

Lake transformed to a
Mirror reflecting other-worldly light.
Other-worldly.

Is it too much to hope for,

Something new?
Under the new, full moon?