Frank E Gibbard Posted March 10, 2011 Share Posted March 10, 2011 (edited) Like a slice of fruit the moon loomed in a blue black sky stood single as a segment juicy bright just newly picked Rearing above seeming near enough to reach and touch a thought occurred a vision blurred into a half shut eye As walk progressed unsteady steps processed looking up the crescent gleamed and now it seemed a golden lyre No music played though upon those strings unplucked mid-metaphor with step unsure I fire off a loony interdict . . Edited March 10, 2011 by Frank E Gibbard Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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