Full moon
How silver white you hang tonight
with the wide world
basking in your magical rays
where shadows at popular trees
draw out very long
and it’s as if the singing of the beetles
down at the dam
in this night cuts through all things
but it’s as if
I cannot find peace anymore
in these simple things.
poem by Gert Strydom
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
