Sunday, July 31, 2011

Sunday Morning Poetry

The Man in the Moon

He used to frighten me in the nights 
of childhood,
the wide adult face, enormous, stern, aloft
I could not imagine such loneliness, such coldness
But tonight as I drive home over 
these hilly roads 
I see him sinking behind stands of winter trees
And rising again to show his familiar face 
And when he comes into full view 
over open fields
he looks like a young man who has fallen in love
with the dark earth
a pale bachelor, well-groomed and 
full of melancholy
his round mouth open
as if he had just broken into song.

Billy Collins


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