in the shadows
The past few days,
I've watched a Hunter's Moon
swell full on my horizon,
with dying embers of Summer's heat.
This Moon has warmed me every time
rising from the Bay,
just out of touch
fire stretching long upon the river,
lighting up the way that drives me home.
a flight of geese down from the North
crossed its face,
booked into rooms upon the river,
vagabonds pausing for the night
before heading out at dawn to find their beacon in the South.
They'll wake me in the morning
so as not to leave a sleepy friend behind in dreams,
and perhaps to mock wet hunters
dew chilled and lurking
blood lusting for slow stragglers,
but that is all for morning.
as I watched their grace in slicing through a dusky sky,
wings just barely rippling the river's clinging mist,
I wondered when our snows would fly.
This knowing Moon
slipping through low wispy clouds
smiled me a private whisper,
"Not yet," it said,
"not yet my friend,
©2008 by icebox