Yellow Moon

As the train rocked back and forth 

My body shaking 

Feeling as if we would fall into the tracks 

On the first bitter cold evening of September 

No stars in the cloudy navy sky

Only the crescent moon

Behind the prewar buildings of the Long Island City skyscrapers 

The moon a yellow that you only see in cartoons and comics 

Sitting behind the rusted bricks it reflected a paper prop that you may see in a community theatre production 

But it was not fake

And it was not a dream 

It was just that Saturday night evening yellow moon 

That could not help but catch my eye on the 7 train that first bitter cold September night

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