When you turn the corner and see the moon hanging High in the bright cloudless sky, Her reflected light which competes, With the far reach of the Sun, And Gossamer though she may appear, Her countenance defiantly shines. OR When you look to the sky on a clear cold night, And you see your breath-mist floating upward Toward the hazy trail of the Milky Way Stretched across the heavenly vault, And the moon hangs precariously out on a hook, In the vast polka-dot expanse of midnight. OR Shades of pink when the dawn just breaks, And the sun’s just beginning to peek, When the moon is just rising ahead of the morn, And hangs in the fresh light of day, As I head to my bed after a long night of work, I look to the East, and I say, Good night to the morning and, Good morning to the night. OR On a cloudy night when the Moon hangs bright But the clouds skitter to and fro, When moments of light shine through To the ground, before the billowing vapors roll, And once again her face will be hid, Shyly covered and veiled from my view, Then the clouds will be broken, Revealing the bright full sphere, and The Coyotes howl at the moon. ~~~~ When the Moon shows herself In all her splendor and seasons, When she shines so brightly, Donned in orange, pink, or white, Or she shows her dark face of rest and renewal, Whether seen at night or in the bright light, Her beauty is second to none. Koneta 2023
Category: Poems