The Man in The Moon (Poem)

I glanced upon a low-lit moon,
on a casual night in June.
Though that man I never did see,
on that night he would come to me.

I looked away from that sight,
it didn’t appeal nor excite.
I gazed upon a sun of ruby;
one star that did not fail to move me.

Walking down an open street,
I saw a man and by his feet,
a dog with loving eyes afresh,
with a pant upon his breath.

I sat alone on shards of glass,
down on a mound filled with grass.
I looked on high through shining leaves,
to find a plane passing with ease.

I began to watch as night drew in,
many a person with many a grin.
I sailed away on oceans anew,
enamoured by sounds that did accrue.

I raised myself with all my might,
gaining back the perfect height.
I grabbed my stick from off the ground,
steadied myself, then turned around.

Then what more do I see,
that moon was staring back at me!
Upon that night in peak June,
I finally saw the man in the moon.

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