Sunday, June 20, 2010

Light of the Moon

I am the moon,
white blood light
through scratchings
of winter branches.

Rusted leaves lay
bole of trunk
and soul of twigs bare.

You might think them red,
you think of them
green and in bud
when spring comes,

but in the night
all colour withdraws
to shades of bone and ash
only I can gild with silver.

2 Comments:

Blogger Chris Never said...

this is yummy, love the shades of bone and ash, only you can gild with silver, really lovely stuff

5:19 PM  
Blogger burning moon said...

thanks :)

3:37 PM  

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