[ When David gets home from the Expo, there will be an envelope in his mailbox stamped with Balthier's usual wax seal of a star inside a crescent moon. He may have picked the lock on David's mailbox to drop it off directly so it would be there when he got back. ]
When is the moon most himself? Is it bright-faced and Inescapable His light bathing all he touches and Casting it in sharp relief Or perhaps the same face hanging in A peaceful blue sky Surely this is less truly he than When he is a crescent A shape none Can mimic and yet What of the half-moon that Perfect lunette Whose angle can reveal the latitude At which his admirer stands? Or is it his face full darkened barely Visible against the night's curtain Except for one who knows how To look? To love one face of the moon is Not to love him at all.
After the Expo
When is the moon most himself?
Is it bright-faced and
Inescapable
His light bathing all he touches and
Casting it in sharp relief
Or perhaps the same face hanging in
A peaceful blue sky
Surely this is less truly he than
When he is a crescent
A shape none
Can mimic and yet
What of the half-moon that
Perfect lunette
Whose angle can reveal the latitude
At which his admirer stands?
Or is it his face full darkened barely
Visible against the night's curtain
Except for one who knows how
To look?
To love one face of the moon is
Not to love him at all.