Last night the moon ran away with the spoon
It didn’t matter what I thought. Or felt.
I was too small to make any difference.
The little dog laughed too loud
Which was annoying because nothing was funny.
And I am the ocean so no one runs away with me–
They run in me and through me and
I am the reflection on water–no one can hold me.
I am a mirage, waiting to disappear.
–Joy Boardman, January 2013