Moon 4
Hey, I found you moon!
Excuse my lunacy ha ha
Was looking out the back door
while you soared into the night
out the front, a classic
nursery rhyme version
a rock-a-bye cradle.
At the same time, as sharp
as an upholstery needle
renovating the stark black.
Miraculous satellite, and source
of wonder, I marvel
that your wholeness, unlit,
is completely visible.
You are my sonshine, my only sonshine... :)
ReplyDeleteIn the above poem I really like the upholstery needle image - ouch, I'll remember to stay away from those.
Wonderful poems here!
amazing piece..
ReplyDeleteThanks for visiting :-)
ReplyDelete