Fool moon by bluemoon

Concert concert-o
wild with summer hope,
with faded sunlight,
shadows, all,
longing for something
not yet lost,
trans-lu-cent memories
of a past not yet past,
caught in cobwebs
and baskets of shells
under the stairs in a Stukey cottage.

Hexfoils on old walls,
in dark-lit corners;
perfect daisy wheels,
scratchings and scribblings
and sailing ships floating
out into hollow space,
a place on the edge of time
where thy-me stands still.

I gather up my shoes
So they are not taken by the sea
I find my heart, once given freely,
weighted down by sea glass,
anchoring me to earth and sky.

And the night rocks me safe
in the hollow of her hands.



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