Sarah Law
Moon
They keep sending those men
up to the moon; my mother
blames them as the forecast blares –
for her, it was barely weeks ago
that Armstrong took his leap; now
she too stumbles in an altered gravity,
its sandstorms unpredictable as love.
No wonder there are craters,
tunnel-black that trap and
stretch her back to a time-lagged past:
my mother the waning moon; still bright
as long as my light can hold her.
up to the moon; my mother
blames them as the forecast blares –
for her, it was barely weeks ago
that Armstrong took his leap; now
she too stumbles in an altered gravity,
its sandstorms unpredictable as love.
No wonder there are craters,
tunnel-black that trap and
stretch her back to a time-lagged past:
my mother the waning moon; still bright
as long as my light can hold her.
Biography
Sarah Law lives in London, UK and is a tutor for the Open University and elsewhere. She has published five poetry collections and her pamphlet, My Converted Father, was a Poetry Book Society 2018 Winter Selection. She runs the online journal Amethyst Review. Follow her on Twitter @drsarahlaw
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