Echoes of Gray

Tonight she comes to see a Hunter's Moon her secret moon (by sea a Sailor's Moon). The fog, a veil in shades of misty gray, lies silent on the silver crescent lake between the lonely mountains of his tomb. She longs to hear him call her from the waves; his voice a veil of echo's platinum. And so she comes to seek her sailor's voice. Faith has brought her to this lonely place. Her solemn eyes portray a patient wait. Her hair, a shadow of her veil in youth caresses shoulders thin and bend with age Tonight she comes to find her sailor's moon-- instead, she finds the moon in shrouds of gray.