Luna Pallidus Poem by Kenna

I, a lunatic, observe the crescent
moon: concave one side, convex the other –
like a mirror or smile turned ascent –
lulling, reflecting, I think I love her.

With somnolence I observe her pallor;
though lurid, my heart, through the gloom does glow
for if I be the sun, naught without her
would be the night-time sown, unturned yellow.

Though palliated she makes me, she makes
me (this I know) for without a mirror
assumed appalling – of me I'd forsake:
'Why should I brightly blaze ever clearer? '

And my lonely lunarless liaisons
Would wane my luminosity to wan.