Softening

I
The orange claw of moon
Slowly retracts into the event horizon
Of the black-hole mountain.
Evening feathers fill the air
Over the valley.

II
Pallid spume tosses
A white barque
Among jetsam stars
That jettisoned
After the mast cracked
And plummeted,
Weighted down with splinters
Of ice and frost.
So much for the sweetly spoken
“Bon Voyage.”

III
Celestial utterances enter the void:
The stark light of day has passed
But the dark shadow of earth
Swallows the lunar light,
Allowing Ursa Major and Minor
To roam as they please.
The meddling stars perpetuate
Their mystery;
Their lullabies sprinkle
The heavens with serene slumber.