Ripe and full the harvest moon rises
casting shadows from the trees
lifted to the star wheel.
No loneliness or garish glare,
just silver glow and silence.

Orion signals winter coming
yet still there is warmth
and the sweetness of corn.

The winds will pick up
bringing early storms,
rain again to soak the land
but now I walk in moonlight,
drinking deep the night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

8 Responses

  1. As the harvest, the earth’s plenty is gathered, all sense of loneliness or garish glare evaporates in the ambiance of generosity by Mother. So lovely of you, Don!

  2. Just experienced this lovely sight. So peaceful & full of beauty like your poem. Thx.

  3. A bright and beautiful sonata of silence…ah yes, lad, t’were a bonny night, true enough.

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