January 9, 2018 by petrujviljoen
I remember the balcony of a sometime lover. I stepped out for a minute to escape the thick of sweet-smelling fog. T’was the moon and I: swallowed it. Mouth opened wide, drew in well and deep and kept it down. Years later I still had to leave the moon’s gleam in case of … well … you know … Ha! It’s much better now. The moon is exceptional. One is humbled, grateful.
Here. Now. Torch in hand to the veggie patch fetching green pepper. The full moon just rising, still among the branches of a tree. Timing: switch off the stove, fetch the wine and chair, putting on my thick fake sheep-skin jacket, finding a good spot. In time for the rising.
earth-shadowed, the moon’s
distracted from her purpose
– swallowing the howl
Linked to Dverse Poets
Disclaimer: nothing terrible happened: just a nosy neighbour but (insert swear word of your choice) annoying enough!