Terror and the Moon

From plate to plate in the world of green,

Motion in the sway of stiff grass,

Vibration in life that has come and gone;

Slow or fast.

Lived at a pace, comfortable in its ritual glance.

Rabbit hole and fox burrow,

Blind in the sheep’s deep wool,

And in the terror that lurks far, far above.

Extinguish and rebirth;

An unending perpetual circle, unstoppable.

Force upon force, exhibited.

Motion after motion, always sensed in line.

Edges felt; sandpaper smooth.

Different shoes to be worn with the turn of the moon.

From one passage to the next.

Undying in the light of secular angst.

From which a sprout is birthed;

From which one turns to insipid earth.


7 thoughts on “Terror and the Moon

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