Midsummer’s Night

I want to absorb this night,
take in every morsel
of the full cheeks of the moon;
swallow whole the falling stars
and shooting comets
into my whirlpool of light.
We are spinning ever outward.
Do we always go back?

One summer moon
makes me wax poetic
while one ill wind
shatters my resolve
for a moment
and no more.

I don’t want to have to turn away,
hunch my shoulders,
and put on emotional armor.

I need fluidity
so the waves can pass through me;
waves of the moon rays
glinting from the bay,
the song in the poplars,
and the silvery wind
playing across the wheat tops.

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