The arc of a solstice moon
is at its zenith overhead,

I race across dark emerald,
zoysia shimmering with zinc.

I leap from the ziggurat
To the spiraling tower steps,

And lunge upward, two by two
Winded, clutching blood zinnias.

Offerings of zwieback and
zucchini in my zibeline

A poor and devout zealot
Is all I am and what I bring,

When I reach the top at last
as a zeppelin cloud casts over

When the moment is at hand.
Written by Heaven_sent_Kathy
Author's Note
Written for MadameLavender’s “Through The Alphabet--The Letter "Z".
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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