Fading Moon

Flowers smell sweeter
when you are closer to earth
resting upon thoughts

like butterflies,
afraid to change seasons.

We get accustomed to rain
when daydreams are flooded
by jolts of reality;
lightning striking twice
in the same tattered places,

plowed soil readied for bare feet
to run tiptoe in new gardens;

evening constellations
playing footsies
with a fading half moon.

These cypress trees take root,
sway in singing wind

teasing breeze,
tickling lovers

until Winter feels like Spring.



Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s