The Goodnight

the moon was a little more yellow

than white tonight,

perhaps the sun had wanted to stay

a little longer,

to let the moon see in lightness

what he can only make less dark.

and perhaps the sun had taken a cloud, wrapped it round the moon’s shoulders, kissed golden to his forehead,

then tucked herself into the hills,

leaving his skin a little warm,

and his sky a little pink

to warn away the coming stars.

I cannot help but hope

the moon will still be there

in the morning,

even if just to cool the sleep

from her eyes,

even if just to say goodbye until night.