Blue Moon

The moon is blue again tonight.
My daughter has arrived. I ask
does she neglect me out of spite
or simply doesn't notice passing time.
The moon is blue again tonight.

I cannot reach inside the heart of her.
Her bud remains screwed tight –
an origami lotus to conceal –
as though each petal held
a different self and always one self more.

I do not know what hurt
has made her hide
or why she comes to see me only
once         in each blue moon.