The moon is growing a new nail.
The sun has disappeared. You turn around: the moon is there, following, without saying a word, modestly and patiently imitating the sun.
The moon has come back on time. The man was waiting anxiously in the shadows, and his heart is so happy that he can’t remember what he wanted to say to it.
Large white clouds are approaching the full moon, like bears heading for honey cake.
The dreamer is exhausted by looking at the moon, which has no hands to show the time, never, ever.
Suddenly, you feel uneasy. It’s the moon going away and taking our secrets with it. You can still see the end of its ear on the horizon.