Ted and Sylvia

Reminded of two very famous and at one point married poets tonight. Full Moon and Little Frieda is a "thing" for TSM and I:

Cows are going home in the lane there, looping the hedges with their warm
wreaths of breath –
A dark river of blood, many boulders,
Balancing unspilled milk.
'Moon!' you cry suddenly, 'Moon! Moon!'

The moon has stepped back like an artist gazing amazed at a work
That points at him amazed.

By contrast Sylvia Plath has a rather different take:

A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.

According to some dream interpreters the moon is an intuitively female fecund figure and dreaming of it may suggest that someone in the inner circle of your life is pregnant

Anyway it was a low fat moon tonight and I haven't done it justice. But I don't suppose it cares what Ted, Sylvia or I think it is.

The moon just is.