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Pitch Moon
by Lori St. GeorgeTar pines scratch at the bone moon.
The grey mist in the pitch,
Howls a winter come too soon.
Horse bells scatter down the hollow.
A ghastly beauty dance of twigs,
The windy sleepless sorrow.
I think of you. 11/29/2010 Posted on 11/30/2010
Copyright © 2026 Lori St. George
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 11/30/10 at 02:43 PM Oh how often we think of some love either current or past and how the thought of winter coming too soon brings out the words. Nicely done. |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 11/30/10 at 10:25 PM I like the image of "The windy sleepless sorrow." Just awesome writing. |
| Posted by Jasmine Sword-Mann on 12/04/10 at 06:47 AM I love winter. It is just so tender and romantic. As is this. |
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