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Poetry: “Moon”

Poets will forever dwell and muse on the sky and what dwells in them, I think.

***~***~***~***

Moon

First a sliver
Barely seen
Night has come and had a bite

Then it grows
A smiling mouth
Light that pools out in the dark

Grows yet larger
Bellies out
Until the whole great orb is seen

Glowing brightly
Brightens night
Like a sun up in the sky

Then it wanes
It shrivels up
Eaten once more
By the night

***

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