Sliverous Moon
Oh sliverous moon
sitting in the sky
tell me, tell me what to do!
Do they know that I am missing?
Do they know that I am gone?
I am ever moving with the light.
It hits me one by one
right after the other
Going Going Going
Stop!
Green, red, yellow red, green
I am dead.
What do you think now?
For you the Whitman lover:
you can miss me one place
you can search another
but you will never find me
and I will never stop and wait for you.
Oh sliverous moon, shame on you!
The term "sliverous" was chosen because it best described the sliver of moon in the sky that night. While it is not a real word, in this poem it works as the perfect adjective.
