It's Still Life

Yes, Of Course, The Lesser Periwinkle

I’m sitting in the damp evening air, rain still dripping from the leaves, and my ear catches the sound of small bone animals in the Vinca Minor (there was a time when I couldn’t recall its proper name – now I can’t recall its common name, although I’m sure I will once I stop thinking about it.). And the air is grey. Depressed. As if it has a slight headache, or had bad sex. And I’m waiting for May’s Flower Moon to climb above the trees like a bright cranial orb that rises above my trivialities. But there’ll be nothing to see tonight in this tangle of cloud.

Drives us mad, the moon
A toxic apparition
Touch wood, just for luck

Written for dVerse Haibun Monday “Flower Moon“. Shared with #APoemADay on Twitter   ©Misky 2021