…because I read another poem about the moon personified…and I’m in between bus routes…
“It’s Not My Light”
I know that you see me, and you think that I can shine.
But the light is a reflection, which is why I’m called the “lesser.” The brightness that you see is his, not mine.
Had the light you see been coming straight from me, perfection would be all the beam would show.
But here the surface is laid bare before each telescopic stare, made evident each night within the glow.
I do not shine, I just reflect.