The Problem With Moondust

The problem with moondust, said the scientist,
is that it’s so fine it flies everywhere, wafting
on the slightest breeze, a magic powder
seeking every crack and hidden place of reality—
a more persistent sand, prevailing enchantment,
glittering matte grey possibilities of wonder.

Perhaps she didn’t say all that, not precisely,
but I knew what she meant. The problem
with moondust is that it brings on dreams,
faerie winkles uncontrollable and glistening,
spells of madness, incantations of imagination,
filling eyes, coating hair and reaching hands
with hopes dare not named, covering day-to-day
in possibilities beyond day-to-day means,
yet just what the heart needs: moondust.

—PJ Thompson