Chris Maxwell: waning crescent

before sunrise,

a glance east, 

a view of the morning moon, 

visible, clear, 

appearing near, 

feeling like an ancient friend. 

not sure what the 

waning crescent can tell me 

today or tomorrow, 

or during her next sighting, 

other than her dawn glare 

grins, revealing 

an orderly orbit

i do not control. 

i can stop. i can stare. 

i can cherish her curved shape

and reflect on the weight 

i normally hold, letting 

it fade away 

from me

as a new day begins.