Friday Poem: Moonshine

It was a windy moonlit night, and I was awake. I don’t know what woke me, but once I’d noticed the bright moonlight flickering through the wind blown leaves, I lay awake for some time just watching it – and composing a poem in my head. There was no pen handy on the bedside table, so, too lazy to get up and find one, I instead rehearsed the lines over and over while I dozed off again, hoping to remember it when I woke in the morning. I have found that this is a good technique for doing away with unnecessary words and ideas, since I tend to forget whatever isn’t really vital…

moon2

It’s after 2am:
The full bright moon
is sending me signals
from behind the
photinia tree.

It must be moon code:
the dashes and dots
of diamond brightness
dart between the leaves.

I wish I knew
what she’s
trying to tell me.

moon1

I’ve found two photos of the moon – the second reflected in a mirror ball, and to complete a trio, the seed pods of Lunaria annua, which reliably appears in my garden year after year, all by itself. honesty

When the outer layer and the seeds are peeled away, the remaining central membrane looks like a little full moon – a silvery white disc, once popular in dried flower arrangements.

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