Sinking rising

Yehudith Dashevsky

Now the moon 
sinks itself
into the sunlight
Still
the rainclouds might
fill up its belly
and it will seem larger
A veil sails across the sky
The moon sinks 
into the light
Clouds sent it to rot
But
Wait
Behind it rises
a blinding ring 
a half-month moon 
rising 
blinding 
Light as a seed
in the seams of the sky
Round as a gourd and as ripe
This is the moon that sinks
this is the moon that withers
Come gaze at it, my dear,
it always reappears.