Since we’ve been on the topic of the moon, eclipse, pink moon, etc., here’s another moon poem, which also appeared on this blog back in 2018.

Standing on the Moon is a near-sonnet. Like those homes for sale on the outskirts of a cool, high-end neighborhood. The real estate listing would say (insert cool town here)-near. In this case I suppose it would have to say sonnet-near. In poet-speak, however, it would probably be called a slant sonnet, building on the idea of slant rhyme. Slant rhyme is when words sound similar but are not exactly rhymes for each other. They are close, or approximate, rhymes.

In this case, the poem is an approximate sonnet. And not a Petrarchan sonnet, despite the two-stanza, eight lines-six lines, format. It doesn’t quite fit. Close maybe, but not quite.

Standing on the Moon

Outside Earth all edges seem thinner. Light really does
bend around bodies and deceptive spaces,
heavy with doubt. Earth itself is consonant with puzzle
and longing. Radiation pierces you, carves highways,
runs you through, washes you away, bit by bit. You
trace a jagged coastline, Chile to Peru. Is there a North
in space? Of course not, you whisper. Bewilderment
whispers back: all magnetic lines mark relevance.

Millennia, Earth gouged its orbit through the
not-quite-emptiness. It continues same after same. Until,
the day it becomes, simply, different. Your now is too short
to know this. Your existence may not be calculable
by any exoplanet geek wanting to witness
that split second you stood outside all that sustained you.

If you enjoyed Standing on the Moon

You’ll find more of my poems on this blog or in the collection Stars Crawl Out From Their Caves, which is available in both ebook and print.  I hope you are enjoying national poetry month!