(1950 / )

Most Likely The Moon

In those days when love chilled me
like a winter's dream,
I should have stolen kisses from the moon
Instead of penning blues like harpist or bassist

Then i could have plucked my hoarded booty
like Cherry petals,
Wafting then in a zephyr of diaphanous delight
Rather than sulking in nadir of doubting

When love refuses to bounce a reciprocal
like unbalanced boomerang,
Look to moon her face malleable but firm her core
Given freely naught to drill or steal her sap
2018

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Langston Hughes

Dreams

Comments (1)

Very impressive write, Gillena. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.