It's Still Life

It’s Pulling On You

A cold ember moon in my hand on this lyrical night, waxing and waning, worn, torn, and heavy twice in August. It lingers and hangs in its moonlight benediction. Only once in a blue moon, they say, and should I forget, that moon’s a kind of grief from the genius of creation – better viewed from a distance, but there’s no stopping its light pouring down on you.

Twigs and browning fruit
Autumn is caught in the moon
We all fall like rocks

125 words. Written for dVerse Poets, a haibun poem about a blue moon. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Imagery and poems ©Misky 2023.