Lunacy

I look upward:

Earthshine shows

the old moon cradled

in the new moon’s arms.

If all the stardust shed

fell to earth

would we share it

or hoard it like dragons

under our mountains?

Or does it fall,

then turn to wildling blooms,

rainbows in street puddles

and good deeds amid knavery?

In the meadow, among

scorpion grass

and campion,

I’ve forgotten

why I came here.