September Moon
I met her on a mountain;
On a day that seemed serene;
She spun a thread of silky yarn;
Then wrapped me in a dream.
We lusted like two sailors;
Drinking our last slug;
Then tossed our message out to sea;
corked in side the jug.
We sang each other chanting’s
About never going away
But I was always looking back;
It was me that wouldn’t stay.
I’ve tried not to remember
Tried to lock it in a room;
But always in September;
Her face is in the moon.
Copyright © Leonard Taormina | Year Posted 2011
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