Walk With Me On Sandra's Lonely Moon Poem by Bill Cantrell

Walk with me on Sandra's lonely moon
You will find my footprints, I have roamed the barren dunes of sands, in order to find her, I indeed have found her inkwell
It is a red basin filled to the brim with melancholy, I myself have tasted these waters, there are not for the weak of heart, we have both lost loved ones and we attach our loss to this cold hearted orb
On bended knee, I beg you grant me audience,
and accept council for a muse, yes, even a dead one can change when they see a poem that grants them peace, yes, chosen words amounting to either closure or release, and one as powerful as this just might achieve both, I'm sure of it
You have given to the orphan hope, as you have spoken on her behalf, the sun is her dear friend, his silence was his way of giving her time to morn, Also dear Sandra, for times and countless eons, she could not cry
Yet I took it upon myself to read your poem to her aloud, and she wept profusely, I myself chose to stay here for I have concluded this is my time of mourning as I shall live the remainder of my days as it seems we have traded places, so to all readers, this is no ordinary poem that I give tribute for we attach death and loneliness to that by which we have been stricken, Again I beg you take a trip on Sandra's lonely moon