Moon

The familiar stranger looms in the dusk sky.
A man ive seen since birth yet do not know.
Like a heads up penny welded to steel
his back i never see.
I look into his face.
Crater eyes observe the Earth
with an unwavering gaze.
A canyon mout lays silent
For words cannot describe the miracle before him.
To shake this mans hand
Is to shake my right with my left.
To converse with this man is to have a thought
As it dissolve into the eternal depths of my mind.
A construct of the mind
I am this man.