la lune au-dessus du moulin rouge

It rose above the Paris street below
A mockery of planetary pride
It watched the gay Parisians come and go
And felt what they would find beneath, inside

A crescent held in place by wood and steel
Aesthetically, it watched the world go round
While knowing everything our world would feel
Before they brought it humbly to the ground

They brought it down? For what? Indignance shrugged
Nobody knows; perhaps nobody cares
Like little people, brightly mocked or drugged
Observed the moonlit mill of one who dares

To watch the vastness of the simple sky
And simple people, sadly passing by.

Leave a Reply