Bill Ayres


The Moon Frets About
Her Performance Appraisal

Luna remembers one night in March,
When personal problems distracted her.
She wobbled in the sky.
The moon does not mention it
As she writes her self-assessment.
Maybe no one noticed.
She rubs her hands together
And types, pointing out she showed up
Even when she was pale and sick.
She remembers how cold it was in February
And takes credit for not shivering.
She chews her thumb nail.
The moon has never been good at praising herself
But she has to get this done.
She tells them what they already know,
That she lit the sky, modestly for the most part.
She kept the tides going.
Luna is not sure why she is nervous.
Odds are against them letting her go.
Who would replace her?
Still, you can’t count on anything,
So she avoids controversy.
She did not totally eclipse the sun,
Or even partially eclipse him, all year.
She knows he hates that.
Maybe this time, finally,
She will get a raise.

Bill Ayres lives in Virginia Beach. There’s always sand in his shoes. His poems have appeared lately in Kosmos Quarterly, The Roanoke Review, and Hoot. His book What Passes for Wisdom is forthcoming in fall 2020 from Finishing Line Press.