MOON-WATCHING

MOON-WATCHING

In silence I commune 
With my muse, the moon.
And see the sun rise
Before I close my eyes.

Dark stillness has its charms
But, last night, into Lethe's arms
I was stealthily swept.
Drifting, unaware that I slept.

Did night grace the skies?
Did the moon rise?
Did birds sing in the dawn?
As the moon died... who mourned?

When I awoke to  the day
She brushed me out of the way.
No longer a blushing bride
But a maid with determined stride.

Tonight, in sweet silence
I will renew my alliance
And quietly attune,
Once again, with the moon.

© Susan E Birch  -  2014