Wednesday, May 16, 2012


On the full moon
The world is bathed in a pure white light.
Shadows recede and trees become skeletons in the dark.
But the new moon
Has it's own magic.
The new moon is when she leaves the sky
Comes down to earth like a frozen snow
Blanketing hot summer nights in ice and cold silence.
She lives here
For a time
Among the black that has no name.
The source of light herself,
She can see nothing but the trees,
Faded shadows of the creatures she has seen from the skies
On the full moon. 

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