O Moon

O Moon, again you have found me
for a third night, now fully full.
You follow me with your bright eyes
when I scurry in my own darkness
and your light kisses my neck nape
and demarks the outline of my grief
upon the cold blank face of the land.
We are tied in orbit by invisible strings
of love that twang across the night.


About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
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2 Responses to O Moon

  1. Millie Ho says:

    I’m looking at the moon right now and your poem fits perfectly.

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