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We lie shivering in the gray-blue grass,
You pinching stars between your fingers
Like stray dust; me gasping for non-laughter
As you trace constellations on my bare back

With dandelion stalks and fingertips--
These nights the moon is not quite so empty.
Its faceless disc disturbs me less and less,
The bald facade grimacing inwardly, and

Not at me and these cowardly hands.
You have intimidated him, as knights do
To such beasts that terrorize the sky;
Why it was that I fell into that fabled role,

I can only thank the heavens, as
Fearsome as they are. A gallant
Rescuer you were! Damsels rarely dare
To hope for such heroes with bouquets in hand.

The skin of my back is holding its
Breath; Orion has hurled a spear
At that menacing moon, and you
Map it out on my trembling flesh.
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Submitted on May 02, 2011

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    "Valor" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 8 Dec. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/90059/valor>.

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