Fall

The stars own the sky and the moon wonders why
all of its children who dim their flame
can only be what they are not
and can only see in peripheral.

What demands these giants surrender
with mouths that taste many words and not a minute under
to dream, to falter, these are balloons in high skies.

What else can one do when the frontier feeds the distance?
What is lost when nothing has been gained?
The birthright of light, the pedestal, the flame!

Queen Luna, in elegant dress,
has tired eyes forced to witness
poor extensions stubborn in their spheres,
and little birdies who have never left their nest.

The stars own the sky and
they welcome us in
nothing is absolved yet the door remains open.
The moon wonders why and with a heavy sigh,
passes the time collecting eternal children.