The sickle moon

The sickle moon, with ice chip tips
clears away the day

In amber tunes of the low sun
retiring to its unseen bed;
The knowledge that it never sleeps
unnecessary for dreams
as we rest soundly in dependable return

The sickle moon rests in waxed shade
partly phased inpathic privacy

We too allow the mind its mysteries;
That lunary healer of all things sensory
works in wordless timeless sympathy,
within sleep’s reactive silence,

its filtry ministry

~ LAFogle

crescent moon dusk photo
Sickle Moon poem image

first posted on Twitter September 2021

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