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A Low Hanging Moon

A drop of sun-lit sweat
Protrudes in sphere,
Like a crystal harbinger:

Rolling

Into the future�

Imbuing depths of bricks
In circumferences of mortars, mixed

Between
&
Betwixt

Labor and labor of love.

Strange

How those with the least
Can love the most,

At least
It seems to me -

As I speak silence
To nocturnes,

Revealed by a moon
Embedded in a

Sky

Just close enough
To touch

&

Know�

Why

Written by Cipher_O

(WarlordoftheWrittenWord)

Published 22nd Mar 2022

Author's Note

My father, who has passed, built a wall around my mother's home.
She has expressed the idea that he did it so she would feel safe...

Even in his passing...

Although I did worry about her, in certain ways,
at different times...

I always felt there was a protective force,
watching over her.

Being a nocturnal creature,
sometimes I go there, at night...

And just...

Watch and listen, immersed in darkness,
watched by nocturnes.

Sort of ready to roar at any dangers.

I began this piece
as an exploration of the idea of the widowed soul...

I was thinking about a recent conversation
with my mom about how my dad was a visionary...

In spite the hardships he endured.

Waiting for the fir

#shadows

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