Late one evening (I can't say which)
Something made me get up
And get outside.
Crickets. Traffic. A breath of wind
And, still glistening wet,
The rising moon.
The blood, the breath no longer mine
Not me; a person, only
Stood for all men.
The orb ascended, resembling more
A piece of Earth than Heaven.
My weeping ceased.
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1 comment:
...I believe I, too, have seen that same moon and ceased my weeping...
if only for a short time.
Thank you, brother mine.
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