"Writing is a way of saying you and the world have a chance." -Richard Hugo
wowzer. wowzer.
The moon is gone.She fled as dawn approached.Dawn as a slowly opening eye.White sea birds skimming over the water,looking for an early morning snack.The mirror brightens.From a blood moon at dawn to a mirrorreflecting waking life...#######I woke her to take the moon.Her campaign was swift and terrible.Metallic and fierce.Flaring up in the twilight.But the moon was both implacable and unreacheableand in the end the war against the moon failed.As dawn rose slowly from her bed, the moon slipped away.But in the end, all that was lost,was a little sleep....
I like it when the poems vanish...they're busy. Place to be. People to hug.
Yes, they are busy. Lots of things to do--they have to be edited and changed and maybe sent out if they're good. And then, just maybe someday they'll be real boys, not just toys.Hi Adam!
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wowzer. wowzer.
The moon is gone.
She fled as dawn approached.
Dawn as a slowly opening eye.
White sea birds skimming over the water,
looking for an early morning snack.
The mirror brightens.
From a blood moon at dawn to a mirror
reflecting waking life...
#######
I woke her to take the moon.
Her campaign was swift and terrible.
Metallic and fierce.
Flaring up in the twilight.
But the moon was both implacable and unreacheable
and in the end the war against the moon failed.
As dawn rose slowly from her bed, the moon slipped away.
But in the end, all that was lost,
was a little sleep....
I like it when the poems vanish...they're busy. Place to be. People to hug.
Yes, they are busy. Lots of things to do--they have to be edited and changed and maybe sent out if they're good. And then, just maybe someday they'll be real boys, not just toys.
Hi Adam!
Post a Comment