Mooneyes
Read Count : 146
Category : Poems
Sub Category : N/A
I sat and watched
The waning moon.
From full to crescent,
To pitch black soon.
I thought of the significance
We place in a body
So distant.
Birth
And life
As it grows full.
Death
As it falls victim
To darkness' pull.
I pondered the relevance
Each phase has,
Growing, dying
As each night pass.
Perhaps it is not
The moon
That we contemplate,
But our own mortality,
Our significance,
We try to associate.
So I stare, again,
At the waning moon,
My mind becomes clear,
As I am waning, too.
-J.Simpson
