Easy enough to call the contraband
Memory but is it? We didn’t mean
To find ourselves at the border
Of the moment with unexplained
Stuff in our bags. Mood altering
Substance. Clouds move away
Inexorable as a tango. The earth
Rolls us forward with everything
Every hour’s hand has held.
Almost Silent, Almost Still
Crickets suffice for thunder tonight.
Like a leg rubbing up against another.
At the gate
Emptiness slips you a ticket to the after-party.
Thunder moon song
Imagine thunder, a year’s worth of it,
Crammed into a high speed second
Of replay: that’s a cricket.
Imagine a summer lawn full of them,
each chirp a year, an entire night
Of it, just below the grass line while
Above it every firefly’s a conflagration
Over territory, driving extinctions
And drawing death from the sky
Like lightning. Imagine standing
In your yard above it all. Oddly at peace.
Away from the lights of your house.
A few minutes go by. That’s the moon.
Beautiful, shining orb
in space. Insanity reigns.
Reflecting the sun.
It was a clear evening. Great for viewing the rising full moon tonight.
via Thunder Moon — capejournal
As sometimes happens on this site, I like to see what people are writing on the night of the full moon. So tag your poem or photo #fullmoonsocial and I’ll share what I see…