when the wind whispers to the moon

,
he says there’s
a storm on the way. buckle down,
get strong.

she says i’m
already strong.
unties her
belt and begins to dance.

 

 

.
In November, we poem

This entry was posted in moon poems, Poetic Asides Chapbook Challenge 2019, scribbling storms, storms and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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