windchimes under the effects of the moon ~ copyright p.m. pope 2014
Fly Me to the Moon
Do you suppose the moon howls at the wolves,
and they’re only answering?
It whispers to me, the moon,
me a man who would be known.
No, a mutant who would be known by man,
as if that would soothe the missing.
To thine self be known.
There is no other answer.
If you return without the answer,
they send you out again.
~ smith