Her Invisible Phase

The waning moon.

Darkness dripped like bitumen into a bucket full of stars and whilst the moon lingered still visible within her realm, she had become but a mere slip of silver, chained to the nape of the night;
missing the kiss of her lovers light.

Trees called upward from the Earth,
unable now to see who was taking refuge within their own boughs:
“friend or foe?”, they howled.

Meanwhile sweethearts around the globe
were unenchanted without her glow,
so they put on the TV
and with faces serene,
they kissed by the light of the silver screen.


©️ 2021 Lathen Griffiths