I don’t think I’ve ever seen the moon set before; a great pink-orange ball settle into the black branches of the trees beyond the field next door. Amazing.
Earlier in the morning in the moon’s full light, a fox follows his nose across the back yard. Just a black silhouette wandering around the snow-white contours of the earth. Like a soul.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
I was with you until you used that strange word, “snow”.
Those little moments are what life is all about. I think of Ezra Pound’s faces waiting for a subway in the rain, pink petals on a black bough. And then I see the rain-dark ornamental pear in a new way, with leaves too green to be real.
When I worked very early hours, I used to get to see the full moon set over the ocean sometimes as we came over the bridge into Coronado. Those were special mornings.
Susan, you are star-crossed between being a purely poetic soul and consumed by over-analysis of the writings of others.
wow!
i’ve never seen the moon set. let alone the rest of poetry in nature that you wrote so brilliantly!
beautiful.