the man on the moon and his flashlight

the poetry of the dissipation of childlike illusions

I used to think the night
was blacker than pitch,
I could see no sparks of stars
no silver beams
bouncing down from men in the moons
so far away
lending out their lights of flashes
I don't know when
But one day,
there slowly appeared
minuscule specks of twinkling
catching my eye
in sideways glances
gradually brightening my nightmares
erasing shadows in the corners
revealing teddy bears in hats
holding tiny cups
of playtime tea
at a table with the full spread
of my childish fairy tale dreams.