Aug 15, 2020
#1 Lunar souls
The moon is split in half from time to time,
Withdrawing into half-shade,
Half-light
Turning away from all observing gazes -
Engulfed within
Inky clouds of evening sky
Retreated into mists of melancholy,
People return to their homes
And turn on lamps and lights -
Ceaseless phases,
Of diminishing and growth
Her cyclical recovery
Can be forecasted
The moon grants them their presence
Deliberately, foreverably.
Hiding within smaller capacities
Crawling into words and phrases
Shifting, darkening, evolving.
Social interaction becomes scarce
Writing is presence, absence is pain. -
Writing is pain, absence is gain. -
If all written is stored up
In never-forgetting skies
Maybe we can let rest
The lune in quiet light. ~
