Have you ever listened to the moon? Really listened; have you ever marveled at Its silver tongue? Have you seen how well it speaks of autumn even when the summer still pretends to waltz with the sun?
Tonight the scent of apples blends with silver from an almost pregnant moon, but the gold of autumn leaves is left for sister sun to show. From the meadows by the lake mist-ghosts raise and darkly stretch their hands and fingers upward to the empty space beyond the moon-mask of the fall.
Somewhere here I realize that tomorrow the rain will fall, and the morning will be drizzle-dressed in grey, and how glorious the maple’s leaves will glow against heaven’s lack of colors.
harvest moon whispers —
cradled by boughs of an oak
a squirrel asleep
Today Frank hosts the haibun Monday at dVerse. The word is moon, which is wonderful to think about at this time of the year.
September 28, 2020