Blood Moon
The moon's eclipse hangs copper red
against the heavens, dark as lead.
Its face bears missives from the skies,
and secrets kept 'neath burnished eyes.
If omen, portent, sign of doom,
or bard of vague and futile gloom
why send man warnings in the night,
proclaim such edicts while in flight?
We gaze perplexed decoding glyphs,
from dark, obscure, prophetic myths.
Your course arcs through the endless deep,
blood-red enigmas yours to keep.
Blood Moon
April 2014
Copyright © Brian Baumgarn | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment