The Moon, clear as if it could be touched by reaching just one inch more, goes down below the horizon.
Slowly, quietly, I come to realize that the northern lights are in full swing tonight.
Pale wisps like waves on water fly south across half the sky.
The stars are not overshadowed by this, but they are distanced.
I come to feel that there is much that commonly goes un-seen between them and me.
Over the course of hours the waves turn to streamers, more defined yet less disturbing.
The Goddess has let down Her hair after a bath.
No colour in these lights this morning, only pale greys that might have been colour had they been brighter.
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Random Little Poems
PoetryJust some random poems I've written mostly they're lonely poems, memories, and things that didn't work out.
