Friday, December 18, 2015


Aloft alone
in nightsky selflight

      the moon

beheld below
the darkling pond:
midst unseen reeds;
and yearned.

“Thou noon to my night,
thou lute to my light,

-- then stooped in sooth to kiss her,
and sank, and swam, and  shone therein.

[Note:  The poem is incomplete.
But at my time of life,
you never know when you might be gathered;
so here you go.]

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