Keepsake …

Oblivious to her attendant stars,

the impersonal moon

slashes the pine tree

with intermittent light;

a silver moment lost to cloud ..

dark cones uplifted on a fringe of green

merge into obscurity.

Owls screech unseen;

anonymous moths flutter ..

the day becomes a memory of memories to keep;

Moonlit, the insomniac night

retrieves them from fitful sleep … .

About atomsofstars

Reticent .. but I hope my poetry speaks for me .. Favourite quotation .. ' Uttering a word is like striking a note on the keyboard of the imagination.' Ludwig Wittgenstein
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6 Responses to Keepsake …

  1. Shermeen says:

    Beautifully atmospheric – both the image and the poem.

    • atomsofstars says:

      Good morning, Shermeen .. lovely to see you here 🙂

      I’m pleased you find it so .. thank you very much for your appreciation of it. A poem sails out on the ether awaiting shipwreck at any moment 🙂

  2. Jamie MacNab says:

    Good morning Marya. It’s a lovely picture that your words paint. But a little sad? Yes, our gorgeous Moon can seem impersonal at times, but I’m not sure that she means to be ; maybe she reflects our own moods? Maybe that is her mission? Maybe our ancestors got it all wrong – our Moon is not a ruling goddess at all, but our faithful servant, our Remembrancer. 🙂

    • atomsofstars says:

      Good morning, Jamie … how nice to see you:-) I hope you are well.

      Thank you .. Yes, the mysterious Moon keeps her own counsel .. I think your surmise is closer to the truth of her appeal than that belief of our ancestors 🙂

      Sad .. sometimes moonlight accentuates the dark … sometimes illuminates .. always fascinates ..

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