4 Metaphors About The Moon Poem by Cristina M. Moldoveanu

I.
My heart is a well within, where clear waters raise if it rains,
mixed with mud.
The moon inside it grows and dwindles continuously.
She breaks for me her bread, I share with her my water.
The more dreams I carry on my back, the more she shines brighter.


II.
Because of too many shadows my road is darker
and I hid in the hollow of an old tree. Tomorrow it will be cut down.
The bloody knife is on the ground, covered with dust.
I feel like a woman who has never had a shadow,
either sunshine or moonlight.


III.
Right before dawn, when dreams knock loudly at my conscience gate,
a gray orchid grows under my eyelids.
A night butterfly asleep on the white sugar bowl.
What if the moon itself was nothing but the imprint of a dry flower
on the iris of a child's eye?


IV.
If you dare to pass by the corner of a poet's house in Venice,
a black gate towards the old attic will open.
There the moon turns on a gramophone record.
Always the same tune, over waters and rice fields, beyond dams and oceans,
beyond white birds migrations in any season.