
Like two moths to a candle
flickering in a soft, warm wind
the moonlight waved us in
while it waxed and waned
its primeval power penetrating
our soul's domain
landing on a spot deep within
where remembrances of the first light remain
We walked hand-in-hand lost
in what we found
our moon shadows
gently gliding on the ground
not knowing quite then
how slyly we had been bound
Moon Bound
June 12, 2001
Photograph and Poem © 2001 Ron Sterling, M.D.
All Rights Reserved.
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