Ague bitter
(drink up, wrap up)
in the chill wind.
Yet shiver and look.
Rising over misery,
polarised serenity,
rim-mountain crags
on a singing moon, dusting
a ring of stippled light:
speckled perfection -
pluck it from the sky;
wear it on your finger -
sigh. For one show,
Venus, bright as she is,
can't touch this.
....................
* 5th December 2013. Not a ring round the moon but the 'back' outline of the dark part clearly visible, though thinner and weaker than the crescent, which looks like the front of the ring, bulging to moonstone - 'wear it on your finger'.
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Winter Trails
PoetryWinter Trails is an album of my poems, journeying through late fall when the wire of the trees begins to dominate, till the end of January. After promoting it and it soaring to three quarter million reads, Wattpad unceremoniously dumped it. Here it...
