moonwalk

We can speak and say and stay in place

or walk and walk and forget the face,

ask wilted flowers why,

when pulled from Earth, green things die.

Head in hands in hair in knots,

I have no words, but all my thoughts.

In my dream I walk right to the moon,

and slow and soft float into a room,

feel wind on my face and close the door,

and feel and feel for something more.