The waning crescent moon
Autumn at last
My voice softens, lessens
With the waning crescent moon
The lowlands
lo a gentle thrill
It’s good to sit contemplative
After a summer
& recent "full moon fever"*
I feel like Frost at Midnight
Though the babe sleeping & cooing
Is my loyal greyhound Rhonda
Classical music on the stereo
Ink & paper
& all dreams yin
My heart in ember
& amber &
Pill & still
You think it’s computer’s Northern spring
But South has a more subtle song
Few bother trying to understand
Why we have clap sticks
Not drum (machines)
Of the sublime
The voice less & lower
Listen to your history
My youths
Fear not
The missing out
Of streets of cinema screens
With luxury brands
Stand
& sing
With
The
Cooling
Wind.
Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.
* Tom Petty.
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