RIPPLING MOONBEAMS on 23

Rippling Moonbeams on 23

In the still of the night

when only the moon 

feels the wind whispering,

and ancient Hades sleeps,

I think of you.

In the still of the night

when tears are raindrops

of forgotten love,

falling down cherubs'

corroding cheeks;

silence shivers in

a blanket of dark, 

Eris soft memories,

leaves return by curling in.

Tree trunks reach and  

rub together,

sending screams out

to the still of the night;

I think of you and lay to rest

my core to the root

of our earth.

In the strike of the night,

I call upon the 

resurrection of the sun

at 5 a.m.,

the hue of blood rises, 

a red river of temperance

folds her arms across

my prostrate back,

purifies me,

and anoints the break of day.

TJKG