The Reflection Of The Moon

A painting

of a full moon

over top of snowy mountains

reflects in a mirror.

The moon is almost as big as the mountains.

It’s almost

better

then the real thing.


A beautiful woman

sits under the painting.

Both her,

and the giant moon,

are mysterious to me.

Maybe,

that's part of the appeal–

the mystery,

it’s always a little alluring.

She looks like she is in her early twenties.

And the moon,

she looks old.


It’s a rainy April day

and I haven't been able to sit still.

I’ve been wandering from one place to the next,

trying to find a good place to write.

Only, I could write anywhere.

I should be able to, anyway.


I’m actually

wandering

in search of something else,

something to fill the void.


It doesn’t make much sense

to look for it in a place like this,

but still,

I wander.


I look back to the mirror with the reflecting moon.

There is something peaceful in it.

I look back at the woman,

she is not peaceful,

she stir’s up the chaos.

Both the moon in the mirror,

and the woman,

are beautiful,

but one

makes my heart race,

and the other,

gives me a sense of peace.


I have to remember

that the feminine

is not deceitful by nature,

and that a painting is just a painting.


-C.H.

1 view0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Men are drawn to her Like she is a light And they A moth They just head right towards her And then she bites them And smiles her smile which I’m not sure is a smile And they fly faster Right into her

I had a dream that I was back in High School When a school shooter started to go off. There were bullet-holes in lockers And In kids As gunshots Echoed through the halls. Everyone started screaming An

At any given time This planet Is simultaneously Having a sunset And a sunrise It just depends On where you are To see it One man stands on the edge of a cliff Watching the sunset Contemplating Steppin