The moon, and I

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At eventide as clouds pierce through the wind,
I breathe in view, one of strawberry moon-rise.
Its beauty unravels a strangely wounded heart,
as though remnants of glass upon marble floor.
I glance as pebbles skipped across placid pond,
hear cries of horned owl perched atop oak tree.
In the moment that passed there flashed a glow,
turned spirit as fine as smooth wedge of gold ―

 

 

Photo credits:Β Pixabay

Kerry invites us to write inspired by the poems of Charles Bukowski and Rumi.

Posted on Sunday Mini-Challenge @ Real Toads

and posted on the Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

58 thoughts on “The moon, and I

    • Sanaa says:

      Thank you so much, Angie πŸ˜€ so good to see you ❀️

      PS: I’m looking forward to seeing it in the theater πŸ™‚

  1. Susan says:

    Perhaps this is what beauty is for:
    “Its beauty unravels a strangely wounded heart,
    as though remnants of glass upon marble floor.”

    And this poem is beauty to me.

  2. Jim says:

    This is a nice poem, Sanaa, very thought-inducing. I love the part where the “strawberry moon-rise beauty unravels a [my/your] strangely wounded heart …”] This part tugs at our wounded hearts which we try to live with and forget.
    ..

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