Beneath the Wanning Moon
I close my eyes, as time drifts away, upon a tune of yesterday
to hear the songs of glory sung, beneath the wanning moon
He stood there with a finger aiming at the sky,
naming each and every star*
The vineyard winds soft as an easy meadow,
joined the morning glories as they were closing for a fortnight.
With the taste of wine still on his lips he whistled
through the gap of his front teeth, while the chickadees
slept, beneath their sheltered wings...
Many years have come and gone still I recall my father dearly,
back in days when the sun was young and the moon
was a pearl, waxed in luminescent blues.
If I close my eyes, I can still recall that blessed summer,
the one when I believed that father, knew it all.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
