Under the Snow Moon

Moon of Snow, Moon of Sand.
Under a bleached white moon I stand.
Starless night, all alone.
Cold as ice. Cold as bone.

There you spin, far above.
Prompting wonder, prompting love.
Why is your light a different sort
Causing fierce creatures to cavort?

In the forest, eyes shine bright,
intent to tear, intent to bite,
but here at continent’s far rim,
with moon as bright, our passions dim.

Here the sand crabs burrow deep.
poem predators to stir their sleep.
Light of moon and light of sun
are the same. Their light is one.

Your light reflects some foreign day.
I look once more, then turn away.
I take its memory to keep,
turn out the lights and go to sleep.

For RDP the prompt is “predator.”