The Day Moon still in dawn’s glow

Her mystique hints of glories past, and promises yet to come

She hides in plain sight for the interested observer

A mere shadow masking the true majesty of her beauty

The wonder of her pocked surface

Her divots and canyons shrouded in mystery

To be revealed at the setting of the sun

The torch is passed and the observer must wait for the fall of night

For it is only then she claims sentry over the heavens