La Luna del Deseo

This evening
the moon looks like  
she wants to bum a cigarette
but she’s trying to quit

and doesn’t want to go home
and have to explain the smell of smoke
to anyone. Or maybe the moon’s flirting
with me and doesn’t want to admit

how she feels. To be honest,
I don’t want to get into it either.
Although I’m always looking there,
to see what she’s doing,

watching how she moves
and whether she’s altogether there.
I have a feeling she’s a bit of a coquette
and not really worth pursuing.

But on the nights when she’s not around
I always wonder what she’s doing
and whether she’ll come back or whether
she’s run off with some glad-handing player.

That’s just the type she’d fall for. But she always
returns, sometimes a little sheepishly.
And I’m always here waiting,
because I could never betray her.

James R. Dennis is a poet, a novelist, and a Dominican friar. He has previously written two collections of poetry, Correspondence in D Minor and Listening Devices.  He also writes and teaches on spiritual matters. He was born in West Texas and now lives in San Antonio with two ill-behaved dogs.