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Tag Archives: moon
when the tree falls (in the forest) for the sky do you and i hear it, across all these miles? i know notof timbre falling ,but the stars are full of static electricity and the moon is all crescent cling and zing. ::I’ve been gleefully out of … Continue reading
Yours is as that crescent moon broken open for a star-freckled waiting sky. Like a golden river flowing through the black of night,the sacred borrowed light of sun. You’ve spun-sugar waxed me giddy-gibbous into risen glee. You grin, and I’m robed in lunacy. ::Day 26 … Continue reading
They are still unshod, by god-mother. (These wayward Wildling rebel-rogue princesses.) Barefoot loose and fancy only in their own daisy-chained glee. Nobody’s waiting to be saved. No-body’s even shaved in weeks and weeks. It’s all grown wild, like weedsand flowers, ivy. Stars. Some days, they … Continue reading
, i shall give her a stanza skirt of royal scarlet and turquoise, a pearly glint of autumn moon. she’ll swoon when i show herthis gentle noise of stream, the golden sunsets seams i’ve sewn into her hem. the trem-bled sway of breeze. these … Continue reading
Hush. See? Earth’s not in a rush and we should not be either. She’s quiet -ly turning, not yearning for speed. She’s all tiny flit and flutter, tide and teaspooned time. Take a breathand hold it like a swallowed moon. Swoon for … Continue reading
There’s a lone crow on a power (trip) line, squawking about somethingor other, and we’ve discovered there is nothing left to say. Somehow, we are both here (there, anywhere, nowhere) too lateand too soon. Our only remaining evidence: this chalk outline moon. :: It’s Quadrille Monday over at … Continue reading
(on DogMa) :: I jump through hoops,shoot for moon. Have a cowor two. Spoon-feed myself fear. And here she is, laughing. Loving meanyway, as if to say, Hey – (diddle, diddle) it’s all gonna be okay. :: Written for day 17 of NaPoWriMo.
(a Curtal Sonnet) :: If we ask our questions of the sky will it answer with its fallen stars and Orion’s belt playing in tune? When we raise our palms and wonder why fireflies won’t stay in gathered jars, how then … Continue reading
We fade in on a girl, illuminated onlyby a broken-open moon. She sits alone on a beach with her fingers wrapped around a pen, her toes in sand. The ocean is our only sound-track. She leans her head back and lets … Continue reading