October Moon, practically full, you loom
Above my eyes with sweet goodbye kisses,
Hiding behind sheers of clouds relief, wombed
In tears of evaporated wishes.

How my heart aches with the lateness of fate,
My mind shakes without eternity’s news,
My body quakes with sad inner debate,
My self – faked, as ethereal as dew.

October moon, you whisper and lull, you
Push-and-pull while salving with gracious lack
Promising vicissitude, and, then, hew
Fragile soul with mirrored hands... I fear black

Is ringed by myself. October moon, you
Taste of blooms, shadowed by quicksilver dues.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 10/12/05