It's A Big, Big Moon
You don't make much sense.
That's how it feels, young moonbeam.
Down, down, down you come
from the high round hall
as the waves rise up to reach
and establish zones
of love and witness
palaver among the threads
of true blue glowing
weavers of the night.
No, you don't make sense.
It's more than my shadowy
way with things, because
yes, she said so too.
Indigo has tuned her strings
and her thrum comes next.
December 13, 2013 9:29 PM
That is one eerily beautiful picture, and to think there was once a time, eons ago.....
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