The Starry Night, by John M. Davis

The Starry Night, by Vincent Van Gogh (Netherlands) 1889

​The Starry Night
 
A moon, some stars.
 
In spite of everything, 
and because there was nothing to spite,
we came to that silent place
and gazed at stars in the sky
as if stars were portals to another soul.
In no uncertain terms, 
even though nothing was certain,
 
we pledged ourselves.   
 
But one by one the lights went out.
That same old serpent swallowed up the stars.
 
A gibbous moon pulled heart-felt tides,  
then pushed them with a swelling pride −                
one face completely hidden, 
another partial, pallid, pockmarked.
 
The necessity of desire hid cruel malignancies:
child’s play rising to the horror
of becoming someone’s toy, love
sinking to that piteous condition 
of becoming someone’s regret --
            
Ice so high, so cold it burns.
 
The moon changes faces like the serpent sheds its skin.
 
O starry night.
 
John M. Davis
 
This poem was first  published by The Comstock Review.
 
John M. Davis is a Canadian citizen currently residing in Visalia, California. His work has appeared in numerous literary journals, including The Comstock Review, Descant Reunion: The Dallas Review. The Mojave, a chapbook, was published by the Dallas Community Poets. A former resident of Toronto, he taught political theory at the University of Toronto, and worked for several years at The Open Studio, doing lithography.