National Poetry Month day 20: The Moon

Where have all the images gone
reflected in an empty mirror?

What deep rumbling from the clouds above
have stirred me night after night?

There was man in that moon,
The lonely chill made him fall.

His death came too soon.

Second chances ran too far.

A heart would one have if they'd find his cold soul,
and carry him over the stars.

1 comment:

  1. was just wondering if this is the poem you meant to share with the dVerse duty prompt as you've linked directly to your blog, not to a specific poem..?