"Groundhogs And The Moon"
It was a groundhog moon, clouding and shrouding the heavens.
Wasn't late in November when the moon came through the clouds.
But December, as I remember.
Or was it September?
A groundhog stuck its head out of the ground.
Like the moon's face sticking out of a cloud, it came in a mystical shroud.
A ground clouded February was golden and beholden to the late stars.
April had its say and May was on the way.
This had rhythmical and rhyming reason.
A silhouetted shadow of Jupiter's half crescent moon.
Missing was a glorious crooner's June tune.
Spring had sprung and the world had begun at its beginning.
The earth was still spinning.
I came out winning.
In my newly found ways.
Stars were born at my feet by the pounding of my heart in its frantic beat.
Wasting the days in the sun's ultra violet rays called, "a fiery rage."
Were the cosmos created by an enlightened sage in a prehistoric page?
By Jonathan Billet
No comments:
Post a Comment