The rain gathered beneath her.
She beheld the sun, the cloud,
her own darkness facing the world—
a darkness beyond the billowing
of distant storms.
The world saw half of her,
and it always waxing and waning.
On rare days she shone full,
but usually she appeared lacking,
some part nibbled away
by silent, tormenting shades.
She blamed herself
for what was beyond her doing,
saw herself only as barren landscape
pocked with craters, a deep shadow
always turning upon her,
and forgot how lovely she was
in others’ eyes.
For Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub