The Lark
Published in

The Lark

Harvest Moon

Poetry

Photo by Luca on Unsplash

Another night without you,
Harvest moon blooms over cornfields,
Blows the gentle breeze,
Husk rustles.
Autumn’s bays roll their restless heads.
Asleep,
The fruits ripened.
They glisten vivid green.
Covered in a thirst-quenching mizzle.
The autumn’s pores perspiring on this hot sultry night.
The air sighs but fails to give relief.

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Amae

Amae

Interested in people, nature, science and technology, and history. MSc in Research Methods (Birkbeck), MA Industrial Design (UAL)