Written for Paul Brookes' ekphrastic challenge - one poem a day in April 2021.
The art work for this day is "Alterations" by Kerfe Roig
La Luna
The moon is melting, slowly losing layers
of ancient skin, that peel and drip away.
The moon is boiling where dark forces flay
it's surface, set the satellite ablaze.
The moon is burning, smoke plumes into space;
now blood is oozing from its screaming eyes
its dark side now exposed, an end of days
and there's no mirage of a human face.
They say the moon is made of solid rock
that cannot burn; not able to weep blood
or cry, or vanish, turn the world to black.
And people all around me pay no heed,
it's me they seem to fear, their faces turn -
am I the only one who sees it burn?
Tim Fellows 2nd April 2021
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