Lustrous moonshine goddess slipping through the stars,
heading off for liaisons with Jupiter and Mars,
songs written in your honor spread moon dust in their lines.
Moonflowers crane their necks and twist upon their vines.
Eyes that scan the heavens as you grow pale and wan
grow stony charting courses where you may have gone.
At the stroke of midnight, they too will fade away—
pale bodies spread upon their cots under the moon’s faint ray.