My paper moon moves with me
Continuum connection
Matching my speed
With interstellar accuracy
Citrus streetlights pass
Warped wobble glow gas
Fuelled by extinctions
In the distant past
It seems to me
Distance is deceiving
Objects further away may appear larger here
There it is:
That ache
in the hole
that holds
my soul
As I see a small person
Perched on a knee
And I try to imagine
A smaller version of me
But as I scramble through my bag
Through tobacco sand
Handout promises
Plastic lunches
Ink dreams
Ripped seams
I know then
my legs couldn’t bear
The weight of a life
Other than mine
But I’ll always have my paper moon
It’s Somme solemn face
Battle battered
Crinkles and creases
Never ceases
To stay by my side
A hankerchief reminder
Silken lace white
Of a souls delight
In remembering the dream it had
Last life
How, you might ask, does one
Revel in mammals joy?
That rolling in grass feeling
Basking in the sunlight
Of tasks ignored
When the human cult
Catapults
A child’s soul
Through the rigmarole
Of a topsy turbo turvy twisted
Whirling dervish
A life of service
At the toes
Of wrong gods
The odds
are against us
And yet
The Universe pays no mind
It chuckle trickles entropic sand
Through quantum hourglass
Particles entwined
Reality collapse
Relax
Wax
Paper
Moon
Photo by Neven Krcmarek on Unsplash