and when i crested the hill, i found the resonant moon birthing through a cloud canal. its hips wiggled bit by bit through a thickness trying to hold it back, like too-tight bands or pocketed joints or air made sticky by consumption. i watched its indecision battle compulsion and felt moved by its need to light. astute wind arrived with seven geese, who rang out alarm, calling dead grasses to attention, and stirred leaves within my chest. oh, broken pendulum. cracked stone. pillar leaning toward earth. allow affection to consume me, moonlight to penetrate aggrieved bones, until all upon the hill moves as one, a lunatic motion of worship for all the ways we ache to live another day.
*88/100: For the next 100 days, I’ll be writing and posting a poem every day. All photos are mine.
This one is your all time best! Did I already say that before? Well so be it. They are all stupendous. Love them all.
I kind of agree with you, if that’s not weird to say about my own work. After bathing in moonlight, this one just came out and I’m happy with how it came together. Glad you like it too.
What Selma said. 😀
Aww, thanks. I’m always so inspired by the moon.
Oh my! I’m forwarding to a friend who will love this. I can barely make a coherent thought, so …just know you’ve given me two ideas: first, go back and re-read some of Neil’s poems more for style than substance. Two, write a denser poem. I purposefully break it into short lines.
Aww, thank you! I purposely wanted this one to be a block of text, a sort of rambling answer to the part one. I did as you said, reread a bunch of Neil’s poems, and I tried to really play with how he spaced things out in my poem yesterday. You’ll hopefully see the influence.