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Precious Moon
February 21, 2014
Begging at a hand
Closed for keepers.
I’m crying for a lovely moon
Down a dark hall
That I chose for myself.
Lost in a game of thickets,
Broken ties, I can’t see you,
I got scared.
Crying for a moon,
Where did she go?
Every morning, I hold a heavy heart,
And every evening I solemn for you.
These mornings get stronger for the passersby to laugh at,
The evenings get darker each time.
And where did that precious moon go?
© Bianca C., Phoenix, AZ
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