Moonlight Serenade By John C. Mannone

Through the window, the plum
colored planet seems to pulse
a quiet tone. The moon

behind us, polishes the dark
with its platinum crescent
hooking a myriad stars

reflected in your eyes. My heart
is weightless, singing also
for you for so long, its thrum

growing louder whenever I rest
my head on your chest.
It’s just the two of us, here

in the lonely outreaches, in space
between our hearts that try
to orbit each other.

Let those points of fire
waxing the night be our

Let us sip beads of wine,
touch them to our lips
as they spill from the bottle

as we float together
inexorably attracted
by our own gravity. Come

my Valentine, let us make
love under the canopy
of stars before we leave
our rocket to land on Mars.

John C. Mannone has work in Artemis Journal, Poetry South, Blue Fifth Review, as well as speculative work in PedestalEye to the TelescopeAltered RealityStar*Line and others. He’s the winner of a Jean Ritchie Fellowship in Appalachian literature (2017), a Weymouth writer in residence (2016 and 2017) and the Celebrity Judge for the National Federation of State Poetry Societies (2018). He has three poetry collections: Apocalypse (Alban Lake Publishing)—won 3rd place in the Elgin Book Award (2017); Disabled Monsters (The Linnet’s Wings Press)—featured in Southern Festival of Books (2016); and Flux Lines (Celtic Cat Publishing)—love-related poems using science metaphors due out in late 2018. He’s been awarded the Horror Writers Association Scholarship (2017), two Joy Margrave Awards for Nonfiction, and nominated for several Pushcart, Rhysling, Dwarf Star and Best of the Net awards. He edits poetry for Abyss & ApexSilver Blade, and Liquid Imagination

Published 2/14/19