Large, mystical, and unpredictable,

He guided us through the night.

He saw us enter the alley

That led us to shivering from fright.

 

He saw it happen,

He saw them go.

He saw them win,

He gave light to foe.

 

How could this be?

The moon helped them,

And not little me.

 

We lay hopeless in bed by the Dead Sea,

And think before ‘sweet’ slumber;

And slip one tear or maybe three.

 

Maybe he heard falling lumber,

Or even little me.

But along the trace of our wall,

Cast a shadow behind my tea,

Was the curious frown of a moon

Who, through the window, I see.

 

One tear or maybe three,

We cried and sobbed together,

The bright moon and little me.

We became two bristles on a feather,

Or paired; a scratched left and right knee.

 

I laid in his deepest crater

And watched the clouds chase each other back home.

I look down,

Can I jump to Tokyo, Paris, Rome?

 

Tokyo’s too noisy,

Paris too cold,

Rome too smelly,

And I’m too old.

 

Another dream shot from my head;

It burns deep like fiery coal.

The Dark Critter wins and heavy as lead,

He lives inside my soul.

 

His deep gray craters,

Full of dusty rocks and glow.

Light came like raiders,

He acted as if he didn’t know

This would happen again,

And left, he did go.

 

Up came the sun,

It burns deep like coal.

Not by choice,

But from the Dark Critter,

Who lives inside my soul.

 

Dark Critter hates the light,

And anything warm.

He’ll send a spike,

Through my pale form.

 

The spike is toxic,

And cuts really deep.

It fills me with frowns,

And forbids me to sleep.

 

The moon never came back,

Not the next day or after that,

He could not take to see me,

For a strong heart he did lack.

 

Little does he know,

Even if it was just for a second,

Maybe even a minute,

I was happy,

And felt no limit.

 

But, of course,

Dark Critter came

To ruin the minute,

And the memory’s fame.

“Happiness,” he croaked, “dim it.”