Dave Bonta's "Gibbous" speaks to the moon in its lopsided, in-between phase, and the speaker teases it like a friend who can't keep a schedule. The moon is a "shameless procrastinator" still hanging around at dawn, its edge jagged like a "ragged tooth." When it was full, the speaker jokes, it went to bed on time. Now, a quarter empty, it stays up and refuses to act its age.
The images keep changing. The moon becomes a "hasp with no padlock," an open latch that explains why the night "got away." Then it is an "old flat tire," sagging and worn out. The last line is the cleverest: the speaker's "poet's O" looks like the moon's round shape, but set in gothic type it turns angular and heavy, much like the misshapen gibbous moon.
The mood is playful and fond. The speaker seems amused rather than annoyed, and the humor makes the moon feel less distant and more like a familiar, slightly slovenly companion.