I watch her rise and fall
fade and grow large at will
always from the corner of my eye
never sure where she’ll turn up.
Sometimes dull, sometimes glowing
light beams slash a midnight sky
the predictable pattern
too far for comfort –
the light we see too late
obscured by a rusty moon
the color of old blood.
Love the line “stars / too far for comfort” — really adds a sense of melancholy to this piece. Nicely done!
This gives me a melancholy perspective of the blood moon which fits when I think of it. Well done, as usual
Thank you all for reading ❤️
“the light we see too late” has so much meaning! Moon observations are so intriguing! Nice job!
the minor sense of trepidation and doom/anticipation in the verses does a dance with the times the voice seems disappointed they don’t see the moon clearly. yes, sad and somewhat fretful. love it.