The postcard arrived the other day
and it said that you would be coming soon.
On the night of your arrival
I would see great rivers of blood flowing
across the face of a pale, disconnected moon.
Your arrival would be years ahead,
still I sat on my front porch and thought about the time.
Whatever happened and did we really ever make it?
I wonder sometimes,
the voices heard in all of the craziness
within the rhyme.
Now at last you have come calling!
It seems so fast yet somehow still so far away
though I am not at all surprised.
I have felt your grip.
Your presence stronger with the passing
of each and every single day.
I have felt the slipping.
Now I certainly like your chosen card!
And the stamp.
It is quite splendid.
You can be sure I will keep it.
I am sure you knew I would.
Another little treasure.
A treasure for the collection.
I will add it to the rest.
The rest that I have licked and said that I understood.
Sitting here now, tonight,
the moon is bright but she is not bloody.
In her luminosity she seems balanced as she seems full.
Luna holds the sky tonight and she is looking lovely!
But even Luna gets her card and pays a toll.