After Two Men Contemplating the Moon, 1825-1830, by Casper David Friedrich
A haze of midnight blue softened
by a haze of daylight orange
rests upon the sky.
There’s a tangled twist
of creeping tree roots,
And broken rocks;
a cursed path.
We stood before the scene
for the centerpiece–
The moon, a waxing crescent.
It had the haunting glow of a Siren,
the wicked grin of a ghoul, enticing
and mimicking, it remains
the object we’re so drastically
fixated on. The lost woods,
the lost hour,
the lost minds
of two, of us.
“What do you think?”
“What do you see?”
an unwavering gaze,
an unthoughtful answer.
Napoleon’s wars raging.
Our old-style dress,
everything we knew
Taken
Except for
the moon,
this moment.
One is hunched,
squinting, leaning
on the one with the cane,
“Do you remember?”
The memory of the night fades.
“Yes, my dear friend, I remember.”