Ana Božičević

The Poet & the Moon

I wake up at 5:30

Go to sit in the armchair in the living room:

The moon is right opposite me

Rising above the dim rooftops

Even when they’re not writing poems

Poets have to report to the moon

We sit here calmly

Reviewing each wonder and regret

Like different color pebbles

O far planet, rare reminder of my

Planetary existence…and the words

Die in my throat. Nothing.

A milky nothingness, a light that’s everywhere

Not another word is spoken between us

In time

I rise and go about my orders

And it fades

Quite elegant for such a big ball

Moon Two

Aren’t you a poet

Asked the moon

At our most recent appointment

The room was bathed in a blue halo

I was called to the stages of dawn

Again and I am here now,

Listening to the light

Grade from the center of the hanging planet

Over its mountains

Towards the rim where it fades

What is more terrifying

The hanging rock in the sky or the

Void around it?

Does the moon freak you out? No,

it’s my good friend

And good friends help each other out

So do something miraculous

Aren’t you the moon

Asked the poet