This poem is the first one i translated into Spanish on my Español page.
One Moon, Many Faces
At the balance point between summer and autumn
so much turns on the breath of fog
falling over a broad green stream.
To be so pierced by light
vague, faceless sun
given specific, cratered glory
And down in the water
is that you? Madam, your age is showing
and amplified, by each daughter
caught in hands, cups, rivers, ponds
Each in our own night
we rise, turn, fill and give way
But just now, no other moon
has ever risen just here, like this
silvering clouds, limning our path.
Put down your camera, be quiet.
This is personal.
(for Don, Rayanne, and the poets who walked the Autumn Moon with me, September, 2013. Also for Gerry, who knows how to fit the moon into a teaspoon.)