MOON GLIDING
Deep in the night, in white, white light,
The gibbous moon seems gliding;
A silent sight, fast seems its flight,
A swift, near-circle riding
Through frosty fleeces, the cloudy pieces
That fill the floor of heaven.
Yet is it so? The clouds all flow,
The moon stays still and even,"
We say, although what do we know?
The moon flies further, hurled
Deep in deep space, in swifter race,
It runs around our world.
So this is so- it just seem slow,
But shifts while we are sleeping,
In "moonth" to trace, from place to place,
Year ring of solar keeping-
Just weeks to fly around our sky...
The clouds are merely creeping.
