The Full-moon’s Jealous Sigh

With the full moon brooding over my backyard and Cohen’s noir residue still shadowing the edges of my thoughts, this poem arrived like a quiet confession from the twilight.

The Full-moon’s Jealous Sigh

Phantasmagorically,
beyond the real world’s dirty paws,
I’ve been flying everywhere —
over to a mythical concert
on the other side of my horizon,
above the full moon’s jealous sigh —
where this old mystical poet
was seen zooming across the sky.

Then sadly, my Itmims spacecraft
began running low on stardust fuel
and had to return to my backyard.

Suddenly, my feet were back home,
again stuck on the ground,
and I was dreamily stumbling around,
listening to my muse’s
sonorous music sound,
weeping down from twilight’s white dome.

So I leave this moonlit wander here — I’ll let Cave’s “Weeping Song” carry the last of this twilight ache.

Ivor Steven ©  September 2026