Friday, October 2, 2020

Who Tells The Tale?

 


I will make you no promises,
said the Moon as she pulled the bow
from my hair.

I will build you no bright skies,
she said as she ran her fingers
crown to nape.

I will fill the world space-deep;
set stars like shells along those beaches.
Swim there, tonight.


Sharing today as part of the Friday Flash 55: Light in the Time of Plague

-- Chrissa

7 comments:

  1. How gorgeous.

    I especially love this image:
    “as she pulled the bow
    from my hair”

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  2. I am a huge fan of moon poems, and this is one of the most beautiful I've read. You've captured the essence of the form here, too, to cut all that is unnecessary and make each word work toward a singular shining and impact. I could quote every line back at you, but I will content myself with sighing over the last three. Thanks so much for adding this to the 55, Chrissa, and as the originator of the meme used to say, have a kickass weekend!

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  3. This is absolutely beautiful in every way my friend! I love love love this!!!

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  4. Would it not be wonderful if the moon could work magic like the magic of this poem? Ah, yes.

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  5. This is just nothing but beautiful, Chrissa.

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  6. This is so lush and gorgeous. I love the idea of swimming it the sky.

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