Reaping
the sickle moon scythes
through clouds wrinkled by old age…
starlit souls escape
Cold Sky
dead moon’s silhouette
stares through the window of night—
it’s breath chills the glass
the sickle moon scythes
through clouds wrinkled by old age…
starlit souls escape
Cold Sky
dead moon’s silhouette
stares through the window of night—
it’s breath chills the glass