Second monthly moon, bright midnight
sun, blue cooled in zero’s black space.
Winter orb, whose pale face no love
can pine to, stares with mad luminosity.

Moon of yowls, dog and cat caterwaul
for thankless couplings only nature could
demand. Heartless in the dark, we call
for quiet from warm robes, bare feet.

Snow crunches in the silence
heading home. Moon looking down,
brittle bright from dark slate, its slicing
shine fools the unsuspecting admirer.

We bundle in hearth heated rooms, soon
moon cold, fires banked to dying embers.

Let me just say that the first stanza is awesome. Reading it gave me chills.

I am not sure about the transitions from stanza to stanza, the images seem to clash in my mind. To go from a frozen night outside to warm robes and bare feet to crunching snow to hearth heated rooms made me pause a few times. I wanted to continue that original chill all the way through.

MidnightPoet, thanks for your comments on this piece. I had hoped the moon's madness in the winter would be followed through, even to the complaining slippered couple soon to sleep in a cold room with dying embers.

L.

Your descriptions of the moon bring it to life..it has a strong personality in this one, as if it's the main character. And the images are brilliant:

Moon looking down,
brittle bright from dark slate, its slicing
shine fools the unsuspecting admirer

Wow. A great sonnet.

i love the images and the mood here, but i have to agree with mp - the second sentence in S2 sticks out like a bare foot in the snow. the last couplet is fantastic, and it is the right place to intoduce "us", imho. everything prior to that should be the images of the surrounding coldness.

Thanks, H. and B. , for your insightful comments on this poem.

H., you have caught the flavor of this exactly.

B., I remembered last Winter's full moon; cats coupling in my yard, mad yowls to wake the dead. I'm sure the moon had something to do with it.