Resonance of Memory
The moon is full tonight, the air soft and warm;
Though in a distant city, it feels like home.
Memories of nights when the moon paraded in
Glory above distant trees promenade through my
Mind, like the couples and families along the banks
Of the Danube, bring the bitter sweet song of
Nostalgia.
The evening wanes and the soft ivory disk hardens,
Rising higher into the sky, now crisply white, cold
And unforgiving, the crowd a little quieter, walking
Faster as though to escape its baleful eye.
The air takes on a chill; it is time to wind up the hill
To my temporary home, the image of the newly
Rising moon, softly made, yet pleasing my mind.
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