Derek Moon

Derek Moon, Derek Moon,

Here it is, the end of June—

and still, I find the words for you

simply don’t come spilling through.

There you are:

full of thought,

sharp with sense,

a mind like wire—

bright, intense.

But Derek Moon—

yes, you—

at the end of June,

all I can offer is this half-spun rune:

Your mind is a powerful, masterful tool.

Unless for love,

you act a fool.

Then it melts—like jelly,

soft and sad.

(Thus sayeth Shakespeare.

Don’t get mad.)

clr2012