Moon, old streetwalker,
alone as usual,
hanging out in the sky mall
waiting for clients to come and
fall under your overhyped spell.
tonight one powdered cheek
is rubbed away, there’re blue
crater shadows under your eyes,
you’ve stopped smoking and drinking,
but you know overall you’re waning,
sinking round the bend in night’s boudoir
strung with leftover lights.
Must be hard on you, old gal,
still waiting for those admirers who come
and go, harping on your beauty,
even setting foot on you,
then losing interest, disappearing.
They seem to come younger every year
as you grow older, and leave sooner--
Just face up to it--
hang on out there, even
even though you feel you’re
going around in circles--
Remember, you’re the only
moon in town.
Mary Lux lives in Milwaukee, is a librarian, co-parent of three sons. Poetry arrived out of the blues at 36; she has been writing ever since. Published many times in the WFOP Calendar, Wisconsin anthologies such as Masquerades and Misdemeanors, Soundings; Door County in Poetry, and an upcoming anthology of poems on Van Gogh.