Three Quarter Moon

Three-quarter moon hung
in a melancholy sky
lights my way tonight.
My muse is far, far away,
but she is nearby.
For weeks I've felt her presence,
and while I miss her
my heart is no longer as
sore. I am content.
Soon the god will die, and the
time of reflection
begins. I'll celebrate her
life with a feast as
barren fields shiver under
shrouds of frosty filigree.

Copyright Cher Cunningham, 2004


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