A shroud

by on September 4, 2013 :: 0 comments

The moon collects in a shroud
And shines into the dim night.

I hear the crow cough in the autumn
Sticks and red leaves as the ocean

Pulls in its tides from all ends
Of the earth.

The seagulls’ wings are splayed out
Like the fronds of a fern as the night
Dissolves under the unanswering skies.

editors note:

In the light of moon or dark of night, question those skies. – mh

Leave a Reply