He hides like the moon

He hides like the moon
Christopher Bogart

He hides like the moon
behind cast iron clouds. This

Cantaloupe of a boy,
so round and pale,

Plays hide and seek,
slipping silently,

Threading through ebony, there
to spy on those of us,

Whose hiding place, so far below
upon the midnight ground,

Are left in wonder,
waiting to be found.