There really was no competition,
Still
The west-ward setting perfect moon
Vainly endeavored,
To win against
The orange globe in the east.
For a discrete span
They both
Balanced almost flawlessly
Opposite each other
Shouldering the azure sky.
In my human pettiness,
I almost willed,
The moon to rise
Or the sun to set –
For them to upset
That fragile symmetry.
I wonder if they smile as they speed on.
Dec 2nd, 2009.
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