LA LUNA
Flower Moon of May
does not disappoint,
lets the sun finish its fandango
before she appears,
pale fire of persimmon,
then cools to butterscotch,
lemon, champagne,
and finally settling in
to hang the night in silver.
Oh, the shine of it,
the sheen of it,
eons unseen,
alone, unknown, unnamed
until an elegant creature
came along, saw and said,
luna, lune, moon,
then skipped the skies
to touch it, tell it
vows of always,
to have and to hold,
to orbit ever together,
one in fullness
and in beauty
as long as sun
allows them light.
May 20, 2008
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