A cut in the sky, low to the horizon and rising slowly in a Springtime dusk...the fingernail moon slides upward and posts its wry smile in a evening that is ending.
A slight reveal against the black plane of space and night sky. It is so different than the full moon, completely unrelated...a different emotional planet.
A sliver. A hint of things to come, lightness to reveal. Almost like a wink. It rises over the shadow black limbs of trees, it is a gray glimpse.
In the morning it washes out completely, the dawn erasing it like a smudge leftover from the night before.
Slivers...like tiny shapes that get under your skin, bits of wood, the fingernail moon is piercing a slight etching in the sky.
In the waning of a light it is the only color I can see. The only contrast that I can detect.
But it is so far away, it is barely there. It is almost like a reminder. A memory.
It is like a bit of wood, piercing me, reminding me.
A memory.
No comments:
Post a Comment