Island Moon

I’ve loved your face, night and days of changing milk rays Sighs in blue and black, of times gone back; now so slack Love surely does wane, then mind’s sane…what’s to regain? And the road, in dirt’s goad climbs winding pigsty mode New moon midnight, holds tight a dark that can’t relight Damned are the seeds, as they’ve turned to weeds: What inbreeds! Mother who never did bother to write further Only too late, her full fate, was father’s sad state Oh lies have made me cry, but truth, is fair skies No more half turns, I have learned, those tides I will spurn. (7/25/2020 For Funom's keen observation contest; '62 Tradewinds 33; DMS)