Poetry: Moon In House by Nina Anin

I moved the moon into my old house last night
The people are there, glistening bare backs steeped in strange sounds
with boxes of antiques pulled out of place
from the ships that the residents of the locket
had committed to, moving boxes along the pier
spices scattered in their pigtails
The moon has seen everything, can teach you
return to the moon in the house
miss the people who have sailed, out
found livelier planets, leave behind newcomers
Up on the moor, Chang'er wishes the visionaries would learn again
all the ways she laughs too, would caress
more than the runaways at the subway