Amanda Headley-White
Discovering Moonlight
I always thought moonlight was a metaphor
A clichéd silver night light, that shone
On the page in clumsy black and white.
Then it woke me, strait through the window
From the sun to the rock moon to my eye
Such a long journey that I rose in gratitude
And saw the sharp shadowed garden
And the low mist blown to the roof tops
Secret and clandestine, unwatched
Apart from a grey cat in a grey world and me
Wrapped in a blanket by the glass.
As if I’d grown in the dark, a seedling without sunlight
All these years I’d never known the moonlight.
Page(s) 48
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