|
violin to the moon
by Kathleen Wilsonold gypsy
balances the moon
on his bow
pierces it
his violin
still dripping with sunset
his eyes close
in the heart of the moon
his bow a brush
paints a dark bird
crash landing
its cratered nest
his bow is a rocket
searching for water
it flies double stopped
with his long ago secret
arrow of time to his quiet
sudden spectacular unending
10/09/2009 Posted on 10/09/2009
Copyright © 2024 Kathleen Wilson
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 10/09/09 at 07:48 PM Tasty and moonbathed! The moon is nothing but a circumambulating aphrodisiac and muse...and thank goodness it is. Love the gypsy, perfect fiddler for the moon, crescent or full. Thanks. |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 10/10/09 at 01:05 AM Just when I think one cannot create anything more about the moon in poem form, you find the perfect arrow and shoot it home with perfection. Clever, the gypsy, a fine instrument in projecting this vision - a legend already in the writing. |
| Posted by William Brunk on 10/14/09 at 08:18 PM soaked in beauty this write.. |
|
