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When the Full Moon Shines Through the Clouds
Strange shapes can be seen
when the full moon shines through the clouds.
Stange shapes can be seen,
frightengly realistic images
of faces and figures,
some human, some demonic.
And, right now
in the world,
under that same moon
shining through different clouds,
people are cowering in fear.
In parts of the world,
people are sick, and dying,
people are being murdered,
tortured,
people are mourning
and crying over their losses.
And I sit here, in this room,
typing,
in cogitation,
with food,
with drink.
My most pressing current concern
is that a cold October draft
is forcing its way through my window.
I reach to make sure my window is fully closed;
a full moon beams its light into my room
along with that cold October daft,
and I notice:
Strange shapes can be seen
when the full moon shines through the clouds.
poem
by
Derek R. Audette
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