What The Moon Forgot

The Moon forgot to braid the river’s hair,

to smooth the wind’s fevered hands,

to croon to the broken-backed stars,

as they wept fire and fell like ash into the blackened sea.

She left her silver footprints along the shore,

a trill tucked between a sparrow’s feathers,

a love song tangled in the bramble limbs,

but no one stayed to hear her heartbreak.

Now the night is lopsided,

slouching into the memories,

looking

for what she lost

and no one tried to find.