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No Rest For the Weary

Wolves baying at old Mother Moon as she sits in Obsidian sky; Night slipped unnoticed; Across the land, waking her; Assigned her to work. She and Sun will not Be able to retire; They will work till death.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Date: 1/2/2019 12:50:00 AM
The last word unexpected, and surprising, delighted me instantly as the expected word was dawn. This poem has a subliminal ethereal quality that made me smile.
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Kiser Avatar
M. L. Kiser
Date: 1/2/2019 4:11:00 PM
Thanks; glad it made you smile again. I like the "subliminal ethereal quality" but, hadn't even thought of that. This was one of those 4am screams of Muse.

Book: Shattered Sighs