Looking At Her.

Looking at her is like 

looking at the sun

with bare eyes as child;

risking blindness,

and yet I still stare.

She is the moon,
she is the clouds,

seemingly within reach,

but never tangible

as my hands grab nothing but air.

She is encapsulated

in that moment

right after waking up from a dream;

slipping away

the more you cling to her. 

And to attempt to own her

is a folly

beyond all follies,

for can any one man claim dominion

over the moon?

Reviews

[Alone In A Crowd]

I think this is a great poem. I love that 'she' is never named, but compared with amazing forces. The thought that 'she' is deadly yet beautiful at the same time is stunning. The last two lines of your poem create a brilliant end- tying it into the rest of the poem. This is very well written with thought and understanding, well done.