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Pandora's Kitchen · Jul 26, 2026

LUNACY

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Ron Koertge · Pandora's Kitchen

Bianca and I were 30 miles north of Phoenix recently. Away from a lot of urban light pollution, there were the stars and their popular friend the moon. What better place to learn more about the moon than by a pool at noon under a merciless sun:

The Moon is about one-quarter the size of Earth. Its diameter is roughly 3,475 kilometers making it similar in width to the contiguous United States. By comparison, Earth has a diameter of roughly 7,918 miles. Because Earth is larger in three dimensions, it would take nearly 50 moons to fill the volume of Earth, and the Earth is roughly 81 times more massive

There is no exact, official tally of how many songs are written about the moon, but rough estimates suggest there are over 750 to 1,000+ songs spanning all kinds of music. Humans have been writing songs for thousands of years, dating all the way back to the Hurrian Hymn No. 6 (dedicated to the moon goddess Nikkal in 1400 B.C.)

Of course Google supplied all the names and numbers in the two paragraphs above. The names and numbers are interesting, but I can’t say they are poetic. “Poetic.” You know what I mean.

And you know I could ( and will) go on to name a few popular songs about the moon: ”Fly Me to the Moon” (Frank Sinatra), “Blue Moon (Billie Holiday), “Moonshadow” (Cat Stevens), “Walking On the Moon” (The Police), “Bad Moon Rising “(Credence Clearwater.)

And of course hundreds of poems about the “queen of the night” including Shelley’s “To the Moon,” Cummings’ “Amores(III),” Stevens’ “Lunar Paraphrase.” And -- of course -- one of mine.

Fun Facts About the Moon

The moon has different names at different times

of the year: Snow Moon, Wolf Moon, Harvest Moon.

One of India’s lunar orbiters found tunnels on the dark side

suggesting a massive underground system of caves.

An astronomer named Franz von Paul Gruithuisen

wondered about lunarians living just beneath the crust.

Apollo 10 astronauts heard and recorded sounds

that might have been alien music.

These are some of the things Lily knows from a Google

search relating to her middle school report.

Lily also knows the moon is slowly, slowly moving away

from the Earth and she wonders

if the moon’s feelings are hurt the way Sean’s

were during that unfortunate incident at MacDonald’s,

him nudging his cheeseburger almost imperceptibly

away from hers as the manager’s immense shadow

fell over their table like an eclipse.

* * *

When I saw “Fun Facts About the Moon” in a niece’s textbook,Euterpe - the muse of poetry - took my hand. I knew a list was fine for a report, but not for poetry. Each stanza had to be attractive and intriguing. I like to think of Readers asking, “Where’s Ron going with this?” And then willingly coming along for the ride. And, for the record, I rarely know where a poem is going until I get there. I was pleasantly surprised by the last lines which ran away and took me along, like the dish that wasn’t happy without the spoon.

P.S. I’m grateful for the moon over Cave Creek, Arizona. It suggested this week’s Substack. And I’m happy to offer an extra poem today. It mentions a full moon, so it fits right in. Do I have to say that I love this poem? There. I’ve already said it. Read it out loud. Take your time.

Warming Her Pearls

BY CAROL ANN DUFFY

for Judith Radstone

Next to my own skin, her pearls. My mistress

bids me wear them, warm them, until evening

when I’ll brush her hair. At six, I place them

round her cool, white throat. All day I think of her,

resting in the Yellow Room, contemplating silk

or taffeta, which gown tonight? She fans herself

whilst I work willingly, my slow heat entering

each pearl. Slack on my neck, her rope.

She’s beautiful. I dream about her

in my attic bed; picture her dancing

with tall men, puzzled by my faint, persistent scent

beneath her French perfume, her milky stones.

I dust her shoulders with a rabbit’s foot,

watch the soft blush seep through her skin

like an indolent sigh. In her looking-glass

my red lips part as though I want to speak.

Full moon. Her carriage brings her home. I see

her every movement in my head.... Undressing,

taking off her jewels, her slim hand reaching

for the case, slipping naked into bed, the way

she always does.... And I lie here awake,

knowing the pearls are cooling even now

in the room where my mistress sleeps. All night

I feel their absence and I burn.

See everyone next week. Thanks for dropping by.

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Read the original on ronthepoet.substack.com

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