I felt like doing something a little bit more abstract (maybe even playful?) with my latest five-line, original poem. Also, probably one of my shorter short poems at only 20 words.
Moon Dust
yesterday i ate the moon,
swallowed her whole,
not in phases; now i cough
dust clouds in tribute
to her.
Milam's Musings 
Brett, your poem and the image reminded me of a poem that I wrote in my teens:
The Beautiful People
by Michael R. Burch
They are the beautiful people,
and their shadows dance through the valleys of the moon
to the listless strains of an ancient tune.
Oh, no … please don’t touch them,
for their beauty might fade.
Don’t go … don’t approach them
as they promenade,
for they waltz through a vacuum
and dream they’re not made
of the dust and gross dankness
to which men degrade.
They are the beautiful people,
and their spirits sighed in their mothers’ wombs
as the distant echoings of unearthly tunes.
Winds do not blow there
and storms do not rise,
and each hair has its place
and each gown has its price.
And they whirl through the darkness
untouched by our stares
as we watch them and wonder,
“Whence came all these airs?”
I believe I wrote this poem around 1976, at age eighteen or thereabouts.
LikeLike