Judder

The lantern on the porch, held by chains in the night
Swings, and bandies about the moon.
Swings and shatters the moon into wicked white pieces
To be gathered up by the night-wind
Slithering over placid lakes.

And the man sits, sips his stew
On the porch with the lantern which has just broken the moon.
He looks over his domain, night-enfolded fields
Calmly, calmly sips his stew.

Out of night come shrieks and screams
Fields alive with battle of shadow
Silhouettes, darkened dance routines.

The fields the man surveys now painted red
Not a sundown in sight
To break the darkness
Make things right.

The lantern jangle-judders in the wind
The moon is nowhere to be found
The fields bleed and blow in the sudden,
moon-forgotten night.

The man just calmly, calmly, calmly
In the windy, moonless night
Sips his stew, with ease
Not a worry in sight.