ONE LAST MOON
Like a head in the sky hanging
and staying in place, or trying in
a solid desperation to do so, this
roundness remains suspended,
sensing a farce instead. Impassively
immobilized in the thick liquid of a
white, morning sky, a celestial blue sea,
dawn's quiet wakefulness, Nature's cure
sounding. We stand, remiss for sure, only
if, by a tactless avoidance, we miss
what overhead occurs.
Like a head in the sky hanging
and staying in place, or trying in
a solid desperation to do so, this
roundness remains suspended,
sensing a farce instead. Impassively
immobilized in the thick liquid of a
white, morning sky, a celestial blue sea,
dawn's quiet wakefulness, Nature's cure
sounding. We stand, remiss for sure, only
if, by a tactless avoidance, we miss
what overhead occurs.
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