terracotta moon

The moon shone above a wall atop
Vines filled the terracotta pots
The night was hot

The moon fell in the terracotta pot
So I drew her pale and soft
And if she’s not
I am mistaken and not lucid enough
To know her smooth where I am rough

Soft monsters fell across the rocks
The birds arrived in pairs and left in flocks
Tides like knots
Tied us to time along the docks
We move to the clouds’ movements above
The clocks had stopped
If they did not
I was mistaken and not lucid enough
To know her warmth when I was frost
To know her storm when I was dust
To know her smooth where I am rough

Her, brightly above me and the wall and the terracotta pots