Moon in a Cage

Man has caught the moon:
all nature now is hushed and still
while works of man of proclaim in brazen tones
the might of man
that shatters all the night.

The moon is caged
behind gaunt girders
that slowly rust and flake away
before the work is done;
the moon is trapped
and shrieking from the sky is torn.

And in the silence afterward
only my frosty footsteps fall
echoing down the empty streets and empty skies
where stars are dumb and hide
behind the clouds indefinite

Far away, as though we dwell
within another city,
the savage traffic roars and howls
held too in vicious slavery to man.

Only the moon, forlorn and pale, remains untamed,
caught in that maze of rusting iron.

—a.