Night Sky

Night Sky with reverence depicted:
a smattering of birds
dislodged from their hideout
among the trees; a bleak streak of white,
sparse and fragile, in front of the Moon's
ecstatic, soft face of Light,
her beams splayed over the World
to illumine strange scenes and goings-on,
all while I stand
rooted to my lust for more images
like this, or to seal them forever—
What if they go
unappreciated? What on earth shall I do?
but in the end, things are sacred
and strange, and the Moon cannot die
as long as we strive, which we shall,
and so in this do I find reassurance,
cuckolded and scolded by my eyes
to let go of what passes me,
long as I pass it all by. 


West Vancouver

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Endless Writer © Ata Zargarof 2020

BC, Canada