The Moon-Whales

The Moon-Whales

They plough trough the moon-stuff
Just under the surface
Lifting the moon’s skin
Like a muscle
But so slowly its seems like a lasting mountain
Breathing so rarely it seem like a volcano
Leaving a hole blasted in the moon’s skin

Something they plunge deep
Under the moon plains
Making their magnetic way
Through the moon‘s interior metals
Sending the astronaut‘s instrument scatty

Their music is immerse
Each note hundred of year long
Each complete tune a moon-age

So they sing to each other unending songs
As unmoving they immovable masses

Their eyes closed ecstatic

by Unknown Author