…endless circles of life
The clock
has stopped
the lady moon
has fallen heavily
upon the sands
of time
pieces of her
scattered
like treasure
across
the weeping night
she is awaiting
the flood tides
that will carry
her brokenness away
away
with the music
of darkness
as it reaches
into the shadows
searching
for its lost refrain
that was once stolen
by the summer wind
but finding
no solace there
it slowly bleeds away
fading to whispers
and in its wake
a soft blush
of moonbeams
perfumed
and passionate
pearlescent
and shimmering
rises
from the ashes
of the fall
the clock
whose sudden stop
brought the moon
to ground
takes a tentative tick
and a tentative tock
breathes deeply
of the night
and shrouded
in the shimmering veils
of her light
both time and tide
resume
their endless cycles
of life
© Ann Bagnall
