So cold the moon

So Cold the Moon

I went out on our back porch,

which faces East,

and the wood creaked from the cold.

My teeth got cold,

smoking a cigarette.

It's almost too cold to smoke,

but not just yet.

Smoke in my mouth and smoke

from our neighbor's chimney

in front of the moon and Venus,

just below.

The moon is so full tonight,

through the smoke,

and so cold.

I used to hate the chill,

but no more.

Something clear and silent

about the cold

gives me a quiet joy.

Something pure and crystalline

about such cold.

Something smokey and dark,

and something in the moon,

so high, so frozen, so alone.

Except for Venus, just below.

To the East from my back porch.

And smoke—across the moon

and in my mouth,

with my chill teeth.

Jgb

Epiphany 2015