Autumn clouds cover it,
a hand over its mouth,
its fresh grave filled in
with ash instead of earth.
I step outside. I watch
as leaves fly by like bats
or sawblade Frisbee discs.
I smoke, & the smoke
rises to embrace the void
where a moon should be,
no hints of yellow
flashing a hazy beacon.
The moon remains hidden,
an absentee student,
an absentee god.
The moon wants nothing to do with me.
I won’t say we’ve had a lovers’ quarrel.
We haven’t been in love for years,
though I like to visit my ex & say,
Let me help bring in the tides.
Ace Boggess is author of six books of poetry, most recently, Escape Envy. His writing has appeared in Michigan Quarterly Review, Notre Dame Review, Harvard Review, Mid-American Review, and other journals. An ex-con, he lives in Charleston, West Virginia, where he writes and tries to stay out of trouble. His seventh collection, Tell Us How to Live, is forthcoming in 2024 from Fernwood Press.