They said it would be like this--
a super moon rising over water,
gleaming the horizon
as far as the eye could see.
But they didn't say
it could blind with its brilliance:
a hard light, laser sharp,
paling the Cross into insignificance.
Omnipotent, it draws us--
fence posts, gnomes and tall dark strangers--
to the cutting edge.
Here at the precipice
we falter—stature lessened.
as monsters lurch from dappled pools
and sit like fat toads,
J Bandidt © May, 2012