On the Surface of the Moon
my friend tells me he cannot see the lights on the surface of the moon
because there is a patch of the bad thing in his heart
so I tell him to look now
at the sinking birds kissing the taller plants around us
he can still cry in his car at night, alone
now that the radio is playing cadenza
the birds and the notes falling as one
and time is a loop not a line
so now he is the lights on the surface of the moon
i am a teardrop, alone
the radio kisses the tall plants
my heart is a bird
Stuart Buck is a poet living in Wrexham. He has been writing for five years, during which time he has been published widely both online and in print. His debut Casually Discussing the Infinite received positive reviews and will be followed up by a shorter collection this year. He can be found @stuartmbuck and his book can be purchased here – http://amzn.to/2scvF8K