Mid-Au­tumn Moon

The London Magazine - - ARTHUR SOLWAY -

We aren’t sup­posed to speak your name. Not any­more. Or de­scribe a glow­ing river of clouds that drift by you like code. Still, you man­age the bright hole

through which a per­fect lu­nacy shim­mers and with­out dark mono­logue. We aren’t sup­posed to use your im­age– not any­more. You’re be­yond reach,

but you man­age the bright­ness. Even if you are only a hand mir­ror in some nonex­is­tent heaven, it’s eas­ier to love you from afar.

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