Moonsong Poem by Waldemar Ens

Moonsong



A seed swelling with moisture beneath
black earth cold and clammy under the
round, full moon white bright - dimness
a life latent, before time
before counting
afraid
new
waiting for...
green cracking birth
filling our lives
singing our time
with fruit ripe and full
dripping over chin and fingers
as we bathe in the
light of the
moon.

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