Full Moon March 2020
Ted Kooser (former US poet laureate)
The moon was in self-isolation, too,
and wearing a white mask as it passed us
in an aisle of the night, keeping a distance
not acknowledging us. It was pushing
a cart heaped up with stars, far more stars
than any moon could ever need, the cart
sparkling, a few little stars falling out,
left behind as the moon rolled past,
on its way towards eternity’s checkout.
