Diana van den Berg
Moon Patterns - Poem by Diana van den Berg
The moon makes patterns on my floor,
leaf-edged and almost still.
The thick blanket of night silence cushions
the little sounds
of talking wood,
the rhythmic heartbeat of a dripping tap,
a bark in the distance
that is passed on faithfully in highs and lows
to north and south and east and west.
I wish I understood its message.
and a hundred crawling perplexities
mate and multiply and mutate
into grotesque monsters
that pulse electric shock
until the patterns on the floor
reduce them to limp, exhausted slugs.
I long for night to end and never end.
Leaf-edged and almost still,
the moon makes patterns on my mind.
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