Poem Category: High Moon

high moon
turning the corner
an infirmed friend

high moon
such a weight the dew hangs
from the spider webs

high moon
where the garden rusts
the wheels of my bike

high moon
the city drains
un-corking their odours

high moon
right where the lake is
a snow-topped mountain

high moon
still shadows
until an apple fell

high moon
the old stone of Buddha
surrounded with Jasmine

high moon
unable to sleep
the crickets chirp

high moon
letters found seeming
our mother eloped

high moon
the wind-mill retching
tastes of the earth