The Waning
Published in
Nov 20, 2023
A nonet poem.
We retreat to our eroding coast.
The white orb ebbs as the leaves die.
Unlike the eye’s horizon,
Tree branches continue.
A beach can get lost
Without moonlight.
Vision gone,
We wait…
Still.
A nonet poem.
We retreat to our eroding coast.
The white orb ebbs as the leaves die.
Unlike the eye’s horizon,
Tree branches continue.
A beach can get lost
Without moonlight.
Vision gone,
We wait…
Still.
Service designer, runner, and occasional poet.