Self-Portrait as the Moon
What does it mean to be so far off
to cycle between phases, to shift so dramatically
over the course of a month?
I am the moon, and the moon is somewhere else
and in that place where the moon is, there
is nothing: footsteps and craters, visible impacts
that disappear when it is new.
To get to the moon would take a long time—it takes so long
to drive to. So long to get your car
up into the air. So many little pit stops along the way.
Some say that what is lost on earth finds its home
out there. I have always believed this.
But what is there isn’t lost.
It is simply somewhere else.