Every night, I sit in a tree and talk to the Moon.
She tells me about her day, then I tell her about mine.
I hear about her friends, the stars, strewn
All across the midnight sky.

Then we talk about you-
The way you resemble them,
The Moon’s friends.

Every day, I walk through the grass and talk to the Sun.
She tells me about her night, then I tell her about mine.
I hear about her friends, the clouds, gently holding heaven.
Making existence benign.

Then we talk about you-
The way you resemble them,
The Sun’s friends.