Memories Of A Farmers Moon Poem by Jack Worthington

Several years ago, but not so many, I sat down on a stone wall in the yard
Peering upwards at the blackness of space above, and the bright flickering of the stars
My heart not yet filled with impurities,
And vision not yet corrected from infirmities.

Yet the light from that night still illuminates a corner of my soul
On cold dark evenings I draw near to that extraordinary goal
Of a perfect night, when cool white light, bathed each object in its milky bath
Leaves of trees casting plays of shadows on the stony path.

An evening warm, not yet chilled
The cicadas shaking their maracas in the distance
Even today, that night still thrills
All I have left are memories, daydreams and reminisces.