Summer Night Sleepwalking

The summer night is sleepwalking again
beneath the eerily lit night sky.
The moon is his dream, impossibly luminous
and usually out of reach.
But tonight the sleepwalker reaches
arms as long as shadows up, up, up
over his head and pulls
the golden moon into his arms
at the same time as she is coaxing him back
into their heat lightning bed. — Annette Marie Smith