My Moon
There may be cheese.
There may be rock.
There may be a man in,
But all that isn't what I see.
It may be silver.
It may shimmer.
It may shine,
But it isn't what I feel,
Men have landed.
Men have trodden.
Men have blasted off,
That isn't what I remember.
It doesn't cry,
It doesn't shout.
It doesn't scream,
That isn't what I hear.
I feel its heartbeat,
I see its cycles,
I hear the time,
Slide by…
© 2012
poem by Nick Strong
Added by Poetry Lover
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