Moon Writes: careful with the match

gunpowder issue is at nine,
a reenactor knows that,
I can be Bob, James,
or if I’m happy trodding on
my skirts, I can be Ann.
(neither is my real name)

but you, palpitating vessel,
tell me, who you are.

is your passion fueled,
by those gray particles that
explode when caressed by
a playful spark?

worn by use bandoliers,
made of wood for safety,
wait for it to be inside the musket,
set it off with the match lock,
pull the trigger, watch it burn,
here comes the B A N G.

are there clouds inside of you,
trying to peek out from your eyes?
Or maybe the rain waters your soul,
helping those seeds of words grow?

did you know that the sound
of the gunshot is not as loud,
when you’re the one behind it?

smile, explosions of delight,
coming from deep inside,
don’t be afraid,
it’s just life…

Wrote this for a friend that was (we fizzled each to our own world just because life happens).

Fill this sky with stars...