I saw her in the moonlight

I saw her in the moonlight: a performer of bedtime rite

she, was, in fact, a child of the night

artemis’ secret acolyte

she hunts the clouds with uncanny grace

it is if not a faithful chase -

her untamed pilgrimage to space

once there, she commences to croon

making holes in the moon with a silvery spoon

singing softly to a foreign tune

and as she leaves she litters stars

lighting the sky like cigarette burns, leaving scars

memoirs of her reverie

reflect in my fanatic memory