The Moon

Moonlight warps perception
creating waves with the stars
so they don’t seem so far away
and dreams can flourish readily
I collect scrap paper and steadily

rearrange the lines, binds created
from wishful thinking and echoed by
moonlight across these streets, the
beat of the drum loud and unforgiving
reality is sinking in and time is passing

through the din-the silence sounds-and
passages weave-the doors to the land of
make believe lie open and inviting words
whisper from threshold to plain, my name
etched on doorknob and key in my hand,

the band of identity sinking in the sands
of times, hands reaching from shadows their
fleshly tones highlighted still by moonlight
and I rest my soul on window sill for one

last glance at the rocketing stars, knowing
once morning comes these ghostly secrets will
be lost, the world ends in fire and begin in
ice, day in, day out, for the rest of my life
I walk barefoot in moonlight.


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