Small Poem

Everything I do creatvely for myself these days seems short and not-post worthy - hence the lack of posts these last few months. Maybe it's time to start posting the little things as well.

Winters moon is as summers moon.
Both hang defiantly in the darkness, providing midnight illumination for unsociable travellers.
Both embrace the sweet kiss of sunrise as a signal for departure, the never-ending cycle of day vs night.
Both wax and wane and wane and wax, shifting shapes on the blackened stage of seasons night.