MARY KATHRYN JABLONSKI
NEW MOON
Dark hidden sea, far side never seen,
I almost swam in you. I was
the occulted, felt your pull
till we collided, and the reticence
you once thought lovely, ended
in a room without a door.
Now retrograde, you’re slipping
westward, veiled behind the umbra or
eclipsed, lurking in the sky all day,
invisible to me. You’ve found
a different star to be your mirror.
I have taken wing then fin
to find you, submerged and driven
by a glimpse of what was once too
brilliant to be looked at naked-eyed.