chesneycat (chesneycat) wrote,

He died at the dark of the moon
And i cannot help but wonder
If he knew, or if the change,
This once, was not his own.

For he lived as the moon does
Strange and bright, inconstant
As time itself, casting fluid
shadows into space.
And if we felt some echo
In his forms, his songs, his life
The moon would not do less.

He died at the dark of the moon
At the moment when all things change
And he died as the moon does
With its face turned out, away
Gone from our sight forever
Gone, for a while.
Gone, but no less bright.
Tags: bowie, poetry
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