Muse of the Day
Leave a Comment

Muse of the Day

All along the crystal cove the woven masks pace and pause from doorstep to doorstep. Shadows dance on the crest of the moon, as clouds, like dark bats, shift through the skies.
The children in garments of glib disarray;
the parents wear masks that won’t fade away.
Olive and amber, sea and sky;
salt and sand go winding by.
One can sense the cries of hovering birds,
the laughter of children,
and frost-bitten air.

Craig Froman, An owl on the moon: A journal from the edge of darkness

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.