The moon’s on fire
again, akin to the dance-skip
of her own bright journeyspill.
Do you know her
bubble-lull-shimmer-green-grin, the way she melts
a shadow-sky; leaves us
held breeze-soft in open
jars for all these
Fondly known as The One With All The Words, using all 19 of the Quadrille words so far. Come play with us at dVerse. I’m hosting.