Moonlit scenes I'll never have,
far from the day's sustaining grasp.
Classic artists show their craft,
imbue creations in dusk's pale light.
Supple limbs cast in stone,
marbled bodies pliant to touch
lost to waxing lunar states
across the void of last days.
Skin to view, plain to see,
beauty's mark in stone's hard sheen.
What is our place in night's pale light?
Observe the delight of legacy.
Cast your shadow to your own,
Luna's smock covers the soon deceased.
Precursor to the final event,
bear witness to those of next advent.
Luna casts her tabu gaze
upon the objects now disallowed.
Sliver blue are the scenes
of near loveliness far removed.
We share the mistress' mission
as satellites to beauty's cradle.
Sparrows light upon the path,
twilight's gift to madame's gaze.
© 2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20160215.