I’m in the processes of doing a little housekeeping of my poetry files. Hmm finding too many good that were never type up. Shame on me.
Once I flew a cloud,
to the center of a place.
Where the name left, as I
touched the last hour of sky.
It knew -
I wanted to claim it.
So it left directions
on how to care for the thought
that held the place together.
This is a place
of twilight, caught between
the sun and the full moon.
Never a crescent -
For it will cut free, everything.
Who won't float away today.
It only remains still
as a star, frozen to the night.
Wanting for the sun
to cloak it with light.
Today was summer day.
All the places have been claim
and unclaimed, phases of the moon.
Wasn't printed for today.
So a crescent could free everything.
Except the earth, it has
to stay in the universe
It has to circle the sun
and create the cloud I need.
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