Good medicine fool moon calls me out of the house
where i am dreaming of music ,angels,food and love
I step in to an empty street and she is waiting for me
low slung yellow orb,close to this only earth i know
I walk as if towards her,knowing that a story said
men once and only once set foot upon her,and then left
Contemporary story of abandonment.I see no flag on her
yet know this moon junk haunts as if as real as space
I walk until traffic dragons roar into two lights
Each rushes fast past me,with desperate appointments
I walk back to my home,only now with the moon within
I carry my moon inside,and we make stories
and have another cup of tea
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