Susan Pimenta


My Moon

So there he was that moon of mine peering through my slats
I stood a while to peer right back captivated to a time
Where all stood still and life was young and reminisced some fond years
I'd gazed upon the self same moon, a mere gypsy traveling through.
He'd followed me through life he did, I watch his every move
Though eyes grow dim as we all age, yet my moon shines forth the same
He'll remain thus so with brilliant glow to smile upon those left
When beyond the grave we've taken flight,

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