Pony Poems

by alafoel

Poem for Luna

Retrospect,
with it’s
sleek tendrils
that probe the mind
and dredge and
re-bury
seem only to come at night.

At night:
That night that you own.
One I stole from you and
claimed to miss.

So it’s here, again,
night fallen
dreams unkempt and
running over.
Messages in a bottle,
all tied with your name,
washing up
in this little river
only I can see.

These bottles that I
can’t help but open,
hooves shaking of
will not my own,
seeing again script I
wish I never penned.

All those nights,
crying to the moon,
it’s only now I realize:

I was never shouting at the void.

I was screaming in your face.