What are the odds of moonlight?
Some people believe the moon is the sun's sister
or another eye or a mirror in which to see
ourselves wax and wane.
For all I know its ivory lips
whistle a tune composed of light.
How the moon lifts and lets fall oceans
or winks in slow motion are fields
of study for someone other than me.
That it paves a white road across dark water
is the talk of poets.
What I love most is the way moonlight
pools in the small of Catherine's back
as she crouches on the dock
and leans over the lake
to unfasten the rowboat.
John Smith has published poetry in magazines such as New York Quarterly, The Literary Review, The Journal of New Jersey Poets, Paterson Literary Review, and Slant. He lives in Frenchtown, NJ.