If I say
peepers chime new constellations, danced
along the treeline,
instead of simply
sighing because beauty breaks sweet
these spring nights,
blame the moon
for this clarity, my blood
spun into sound
that only perigee
can make sing.
If I say
peepers chime new constellations, danced
along the treeline,
instead of simply
sighing because beauty breaks sweet
these spring nights,
blame the moon
for this clarity, my blood
spun into sound
that only perigee
can make sing.
this is wonderful!!!
Thanks! The perigee has me writing tons of lunar things…
You’re in love with perigee! Aw ~ how sweet 🙂
Haha–think I am done with it until next year 😉
what Polly said
Hahaha–glad it’s over… I think it is over… I hope it is over.
Some words are like that, neh? They stick to you, like a leaf caught in your hair, clung in your weft for a while.
Yes, or more likely a burr 😉
blaming the moon for clarity rings so truthful. i shall spend the next hours cleaving a lot from that line.
Oh, I am so glad you will! Hope it spawns a poem or three…
Ooh, that was creative… love.
Awesome, thank you!