Monkey Moon

Wicked bright, like a lighthouse beacon, suspended in the sky.

It was the first thing to catch my attention, as I stepped outside this morning to grab a smoke. The night-into-morning air always seems so crisp, so darn icy, during these long winter months, yet even more so on this morning in particular.

Hiding itself, while safely tucked away well within the snow-covered trees, was the monkey moon. That old monkey moon. Keeping a weathered eye out for stragglers, villain’s and thieves again, I’d imagine.

Probably keeping a watchful eye out for old stray dogs, such as me, just as well. It’s comforting to know that nature cares so deeply. Warms my coffee.

I can’t help but wonder, though, if the monkey moon knows anything about the moongoat?

Moongoat

I've been doing time
rolling hills in front of me
and I'm doing fine
without your chains on top of me

What if the moongoat swallows the sun?
Maybe the moongoat follows the sun?

I've been feeling high
when you're away from me
and I'm running wild
escaping destiny

What if the moongoat swallows the sun?
Maybe the moongoat follows the sun? 

I’d imagine not.

The monkey moon is reasonably chill, hanging out on most nights well within the protective shelter of his favorite trees, while the moongoat, well sir, he prefers to lazily scrape himself across the dark, midnight skies.

It would be an interesting battle though, monkey versus goat. Not exactly sure which one I’d be willing to put my money on.

Well, that is, if I had any money.

Have a great day, keep a steady eye out for those moon creatures.

-I am Crandew

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