May Moon, too bloomed have you disappeared,
I sense distress in tears fading away,
I fear form dims your shape, seeking fears
Not even here – month of sky of lading…

May Moon, your sadness spreads… Moon of Northern
Hemispheres delight, you have reached your height’s past
Peak, soon you will shine no more. When Southern
Time reaches advent’s lent, heartbeat doesn’t last

Beyond the space of rhyme. Ascension’s game
Instills Time into slain frame of mind. May
You die in peace with greenery’s flame…
Goodbye, you moon of years that pass -- stray.

Now comes summer’s heat before its time. Why?
Just so, I love to hate the heat of times gone by…

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 11/15/05