Every so often, a double moon
surfaces on a shore of clouds
encircling my home.
However ample the evidence,
scientists have accumulated,
I resolve that we have not a solitary
moon, but two.
So all this time, I stand,
viewing my reflection in puddles
feeling dissolved, longing to coagulate
before some bird drinks out of me --
last month, I ran after a child,
who appeared to have been myself
as a child, following him down
the important street names of my past
before cornering him against
the building of my old grammar school,
only to discover that the poets
were right: everyday, reasoning,
trying to verify, you never grasp it,
staring at an illusion so unceasingly real,
though having long convinced
yourself it was not.
|Roger Pao's poems have appeared in the anthology A Moment to Reflect, for which he won an Editor's Choice Award, Footprints Magazine, In the Grove Magazine, and Gumball Poetry. His work has also been accepted for future publication in Little Brown Poetry, The Bay Review, and L'Intrigue Web Magazine. He can be reached by email to firstname.lastname@example.org.|