moon child
BY Linda M. Crate
gazing at the moon
everyone remarks of her beauty
one may warn you about
the dark side,
but no one dwells on it;
i am a moon child
can tell you my moon mother isn’t
to be reckoned with but neither
am i;
i’ll create hurricanes to erode away
your heart
scream with the chorus of sirens and ocean
waves,
pummel you into the very dust of which
you were born;
use my tongue as a dagger that cuts through the heart
of your most vulnerable stone—
i am a moon child
preferring peace and flowers,
but every moon has a dark side and people
try my patience anymore.
Linda M. Crate is a Pennsylvanian native born in Pittsburgh yet raised
in the rural town of Conneautville. Her poetry, short stories, articles, and
reviews have been published in a myriad of magazines both online and in
print. Recently her two chapbooks A Mermaid Crashing Into Dawn (Fowlpox Press - June 2013) and Less Than A Man (The Camel Saloon - January