The Moon Is a Portal Home From Dreams

At three this morning,
The full moon at my window
Was not the end of the world

Although its whitish blue light
Had woken this broken beast
From a nightmare of just that.

The eclipse was on its way
But not for a couple hours.
Then the moon would look
Like an orange badly bruised.

For now it was a mirror.
Of course, when I’d dreamed
Of Armageddon,
I’d also dreamed of escape.