When The Moon Ate The Dark
They were observant people
who saw the night
black
already
unbroken
by pinpoint stars.
Shooting into the black
even before the moon
scoffed
then swallowed
eating up the dark
and leaving only a ring
of white moonlight for breakfast
with nothing to come for afters
but spatters of spewed out stars.
They could hardly believe it
but still they felt that
only black days could follow
such an apocalypse
a world without light
a world without life
an apocalyptic
eclipse.
Winter Light
When the winter light hits the trees
the blue disappears in a spectrum
of bright white and gold
shooting out like a beaming star
from a brilliant diamond
and then fades away
fades with the sinking feeling
of an endgame approaching
as the blue disappears
swallowed by winter dark
eaten up by blackness
all too soon.
First published in Flora Fiction, Winter 2020/21
The Place Where The Stars Are Buried
I’m on my way to the place
where the stars are buried
shooting under a roof of rain.
I won’t get lost.
I’m following the silver snail
trails and the muddy pools
with the little shimmers of spangles.
When I get there - to the place
where the stars are buried.
I shall dig a little, dig
just enough to let
a glimmer of light out.
Just enough to let
the love sparkle and
sizzle in the light
before it burns.
First published in Midnight Circus, June 2016
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