On the moon, I’ve gone away.
Sleeping with the dizzy wind
And all the crescent-shaped leaves-
Blankets for trembling rolly-pollies.

Feet dangle from a rusty rocket ship.
Roots exploited by nature’s hand.
Rotting, but ready to fly and pressured by
A summer breeze that billows down in mirror waves.

If I jump, I will freely float
Not fall
Down to a planet of golden light beams
And vivid green comfort.

Lovely day anticipates total silence.
Soon the stars will burst their captive shells
And shine through the jacket of a silver tree.
On the moon, I’ve gone away.

Blossoms wrap selfish fists around my bare ankles
Pleading ardently for me to stay
(And how I want to stay)
Clinging to my summer rocket ship.