The Moon is Floating

The moon is floating full and free

Behind an old Hickory tree outside my door.

 

All day it has been storming,

Hard,

With lightning, and thunder,

With the wind bending branches nearly to the ground.

 

Right now, the sky is clear.

Right now the moon is floating free.

 

Right now there are no clouds in the sky.

 

Right now,

I am trying to write you a poem.

 

Autumn is coming

The leaves in the Cumberland will be turning

In a week or so.

 

All summer,

In its time the moon has grown round,

Like a pregnant dream,

Whose time is near.

 

We both, the moon and I,

Have marked time

‘Till relief from the brutality

Of the heat

can turn the leaves.

 

The anxiousness of dreams

Wondering about their own truth….

Can start growing

Into resolution.

 

Knowing, and yet wondering.

 

All summer we have waited

For the leaves in the Cumberland to turn.

 

They are turning,

We are smiling.

 

Me and the moon,

Behind that old Hickory tree.

 

How about you?

 

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