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Wacko Waxing Poetic

the moon waxes 'neath the sleepy shadow of its own halo as yonder by the mirror lake, a lucid lunatic waxes poetic as he listens and sways to the tempo and rhythm that go with the tunes of colors, red to violet, in the lunar rainbow which he alone clearly hears in the night with deep delight he grins at the moon, hours he can't keep, crawls back to sleep.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2006




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things