Last night someone smudged the moon.
They got a big eraser and blurred its edges
into the black night sky.
Embarrassed by its uncertainty
the moon hid behind the trees
and the high ivy covered
stone wall.
The street lamps blinded me
and the sweeping electric gaze of the tower
led my eyes away.
But one lamp flickered out,
leaves shivered in the breeze
and if I stood on tiptoe
I could see a sliver of its translucent glow.
5 comments:
Late night V? Good words - love the moon, in all her phases!
I'm telling you it was smudged. It had nothing to do with the wine or the lateness of the hour. In anycase it was before 2 am because the Eiffel Tower lights were still on.
That's great, V. I'm fascinated by the moon and often write poems about it. Maybe I'll post some on my blog one day.
This definitely sounds like the moon in Paris.
I like the image of the eraser. Nice one.
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