Fingernail Moon

There’s no winners here, that’s what the woman in line buying lottery Tickets said to me — no winners, not a one — the sky was fading deep beside Me, the afternoons reach forth for more, more light, more hope, more time

In store — on my ride home a fingernail moon rises high in the twilight sky, Indigo tinged with apricot — the colors deep and keen — I remember my Mother saying to me, make a wish on that first moon you see, the sliver of

Perfection rising, that crescent shape just ringing the rounded shapes of Baby cuticles, tiny and perfect in their multitudes — the world turning Towards spring, the beginning of all things — in this time where so much

Evil can lurk in shadows, in unexpected places, wish upon this moonrise.

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