The moon is a light-blue cat
that sleeps in the sky,
sometimes in a tight ball, curled up,
sometimes in one or another arc.
He does nothing up there but sleep.
He is a little different every night,
casting the light of his radiant body
down on the earth with the full generosity
of a quiet and unassuming, but outgoing nature.
He is so sleepy he may never wake up,
having had a big meat pie
some millennia ago for supper
and having been wholly, fully, totally satisfied
with it, flavored as it was with dragon's breath,
and sprinkled with the milk of paradise.