I must be an idiot or a glutton for punishment. Or maybe something worse still. Some things don't die, no matter how hard you beat them.
Luna
The moon rises over the roof
And sets in a similar way.
As we sleep on unconcerned
And wait impatiently for the day.
The sun and moon in passing
Pause for a brief word.
Each considers the other's lot
In the theater of the absurd.
Even changeable, always waxing
Or waning on the way to bed,
The moon chooses full but then
Heads to gibbous instead.
2 comments:
"The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress"...
Non est ad astra mollis e terris via...Seneca (There is no easy way to the stars from Earth.)
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