His Nose is so Visible Against the Midnight Blue
The moon is a Punch in the sky.
A boy is carrying a bruise.
And nobody is talking to either of them
about ordinary things.
She says she cannot trace the shape
of the puppet you are seeing
in tonight’s moon,
yet to you his nose is so visible
against midnight blue.
You are craning your neck
outside a stranger’s house,
talking to yourself
to filter out the murmur
of voices that cannot be deciphered
through walls and air.
You want to hold every scrap of him
in your head.
You want her to see.
She is urging you to move on now,
says everything will come full circle.
But right now the moon is a punch
and a boy is carrying a bruise.
And you don’t know
if you can wait for the moon
to wane and wax
become whole again.
Sue Finch is the author of two poetry collections: Magnifying Glass and Welcome to the Museum of a Life. She loves the coast, peculiar things, and the scent of ice-cream freezers. You can find her on X: @soopoftheday or suefinch.co.uk