Sunday, November 26, 2017

The Moon's Child

Her skin is so pale; she wraps herself in
Cotton, the sun leaves burns behind on her
Uncovered skin, its heat always winning.
Her hair is tangled from the neglect it
Has endured, someone tries to brush her locks
But she twists and screams, not wanting to be
Touched by hands that feel like fire and anger.
She runs, like a wolf held captive by the
Moon. The moon is gentle, a dark blanket
Of protection cascades over the sky.
She is a child of the moon, the night
Feels like home to her as she hums with the
Crickets, and dances on the cool dew on grass


  1. The moon really is so gentle and sweet. I enjoyed reading this. <3

  2. That is a beautiful picture of the moon! Something so far away is often difficult to photograph. What kind of camera did you use?

    P.S. I'd appreciate a visit over to my up and coming blog