The Moon is Watching

This last week
The Moon has perched herself
Above the fir tree opposite
Tapping me on the shoulder
Each morning
So I don’t forget
To say Good Morning

The moon perched above the fir tree opposite

Normally the Moon stays hidden
And like some nocturnal beast
Shyly puts on her cloak
Of misty white light
Before perching -
Up there

But this Moon
Maybe a different one
Is a breakfast feast
A pre-running sight
Been waiting
With some impatience
For someone to see her
Importance, significance

Like the Christmas story
But unlike the Magi
With their Eastern wisdom
My mind is blank…
If there is a baby in the fir tree
It would seem untimely
Unlikely…

As if she hears my absence
She turns, flees, and fades
But has one last trick
As she sinks and sinks
What was a bright sixpence in the sky
Is now a translucent sovereign
Her reign extending ever larger
Just beyond the horizon