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devohoneybee at 07:08pm on 31/12/2004
devohoneybee at 07:08pm on 31/12/2004Last night,
the moon rose red as cherry
to the north and east.
Even gutted, slightly more than
half full, too bloated for a crescent,
too barren to be complete,
it was a beacon of something
too specific to name.
I sat, for a long time,
watching. I knew it for enchantment,
and knew myself
beguiled.
Tonight, I am waiting, for what,
I'm not sure. The walls are bare,
and there's nothing left but a suitcase
I'll soon carry out of here and be gone with.
The moon is hidden
behind the mist.
the moon rose red as cherry
to the north and east.
Even gutted, slightly more than
half full, too bloated for a crescent,
too barren to be complete,
it was a beacon of something
too specific to name.
I sat, for a long time,
watching. I knew it for enchantment,
and knew myself
beguiled.
Tonight, I am waiting, for what,
I'm not sure. The walls are bare,
and there's nothing left but a suitcase
I'll soon carry out of here and be gone with.
The moon is hidden
behind the mist.
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