moon witch

Morah’s nightgown was frothy not frilly, pretty and dainty
breeze blew it in a billowy way as she walked toward the sea
her husband watched as she headed toward the round moon
she was the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter
he stayed where he was, understanding the night was for her
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace