(an old one)
Ghost moon, barely there,
You seem no more solid
Than the small cirrus clouds
That hang nearby --
I see blue through you.
What lunar journey brings you through
The light side of day, your mystery revealed?
Midnight's ruler, deposed by a bright autumn sky.
The clouds blow closer, and you are gone;
Cloud becomes moon, moon, cloud --
Do I dream of you, ghost moon?