by Maureen Glaude
Whether the moon
be half or full
pale or brilliant
silver or yellow
she is my constant and faithful sister
who travels with me on all the roads of my life.
Like me, the moon has a changeable face
sometimes happy, sometimes sad.
Like me, she has phases of life
and of size.
I walk with the moon at night, in each season.
I talk to the moon, and she listens to me
We dont feel any distance,
my sister of the sky and me.
Posted on 11/24/2005
Copyright © 2021 Maureen Glaude
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 11/24/05 at 03:33 PM|
Lively expression, evocative reminder of that old Rosemary Clooney hit, Sisters...no one better come between me and my sister. How did the Italian exam go?
|Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 11/24/05 at 03:36 PM|
PS: Uncanny also as I used the line: "good luck in whatever roads of life you choose to travel" in my return e-mail to Kris (KM) the other night. There's that poets' telepathy again. :o)
|Posted by Charles E Minshall on 11/25/05 at 02:53 AM|
I do love to be mooned Mo. Excellent poem...Charlie
|Posted by Laura Doom on 11/25/05 at 01:51 PM|
She listens, understands, and will never answer back - an ideal sister for those reflective times :)
|Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 11/26/05 at 07:05 AM|
The moon influences many a poem, yet each poem sees only one moon. This is just beautiful, Maureen.
|Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 11/27/05 at 08:41 PM|
Who says we outgrow the need for an immaginary "friend" or in this case, "sister". Brooding word images, but calm, restful. Not at all a lonely solitude.