The Moon Talks

after Irving Layton

I have sat
        in among the rows
        of prayers;
the covered heads of women
        floating leaves
        on my eyes,
I have felt
        allied.
Now at night
there is no trace of it,
I see no dancing
        no young pairs swirling;
now standing here sentry,
        the moon gazes,
my fists are clenched.

You, great stone grin,
I will slap your head
        till my hands bleed -
I say nothing
tightening,
spreading my stance.
He rolls ten degrees
and opens his maw,
mountains drip like saliva -
I say nothing.

We balance on a see-saw
        like two frozen angels
our severed tongues
        in our hands.