Archive
07/06/09 - (2)
Spiral Heights
Muted orange, a few hours earlier, this Monday eve, Now boasting a brilliant alabaster gleam, The waxing moon scales the sky's orb web,
Reaching for its star-whisperous zenith, Above where I sit, in this docked pontoon boat, Beseeching me to surrender to its enchantments,
Which I do, with the submissiveness of a newborn Suckling on fantasies, reveries, innocent dreams Spawned in night's warm womb.
For eons, at least, I watch the lunar orb As it shimmers in and out of the clouds' silken filaments, Climbing the brightness of night's spiral heights.
07/06/09 - (2)
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