The People Who Laughed At The Moon

There was once a people who laughed at the moon.

They made kissy faces at the sun and stared

Off into the darkness just to name the stars—

Searching sometimes for signs that

What they already had was not just

At their fingertips.

 

They locked themselves in boxes:

Big ones that held everything and

Small, fast ones that took them

From this box to that.

 

They spent more time talking about

Painting than painting, more time planting

Seeds than picking flowers and they wore wreaths

Around their necks that carried voices from a small

Box so they were never left alone with the pleading silences.

 

They stabbed their longest swords into the ground to make

The earth bleed the dark blood of the dead past.

 

Their music was sent into the clouds where

Ghost’s songs could be heard long afterwards

Anyone remembered whose voice was piercing the canyons,

Whose song was waking the oceans, and possessing the kids,

Whose touch was reaching, which guest had long left the party,

After licking every plate the color of their deepest eye.

 

Artwork Credit: Laughing Moon by ~AliceVecordia