Leslie Philibert Poems
The Night The Moon Got Stolen
In the night the moon got stolen
lunatics shook their fists at empty heavens,
cats stared at holes in the dark night
and seas turned into lakes, tides refused,
And songwriters hit the wrong keys
while lovers went home for an early night,
words were not whispered in ears nor
arms thrown across shoulders in first joy.
Have no fear for this lost face in the sky,
the lady that shimmers over standing water.
Aurora will bring the slow return of dawn,
Libertas will free this stolen moonlight.
Why I Hate Gravity
heavier than down,
pulling and falling,
red-kneeled prayer to the god
of downstairs and tears,
of steps, gravel and caves;
flapping like a torn flag,
the fool of terra, trapped under
the bricks of the world,
flightless, too low to rise