I Blame the Moon

for pulling music out of darkness,
for draping the lake in a jeweled scarf,
for luring us out night after night.

Moonlight makes us believe
in our own distortions:
how sorrow hidden in shadows
could flame into wings,
how the dimmest light
turns weakness to magic
and heals broken souls.

As we straggle home,
a grenadine sunrise
pours over the horizon.
I apologize to the light
for missing another day.

 

Transformation

What sound
does night make

when it falls,
shattering a marriage?

And how does the moon fold
these sparkling shards

into its chrysalis
until something survives?

Milk-pearled wings,
fragile as woven air,

carry the light
of what always existed,

the bond that first held
us together.

A lost star finds itself
flickering behind an eye,

the upward curve of a lip.

© Patty Dickson Pieczka

Patty Dickson Pieczka’s second book, Painting the Egret’s Echo, won the Library of Poetry Book Award from Bitter Oleander Press. Other books are Lacing Through Time, Word Paintings and a novel, Finding the Raven. Winner of the ISPS, Francis Locke Memorial, and Maria Faust Sonnet Contests, she graduated from SIU and has had writing contributions in more than 50 journals. Visit her website at http://www.pattywrites.net/

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