Life With Horace

poetry & essays


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sleeping in moonglow

a whole moon
shrinking
without stark relief
or angles
perhaps hanging
in a mist I cannot see
its clear light
muted and opaque
entering my room
by stealth
air brushing
walls and shapes
and sets them floating
in the glow
along with me

_____________________________________
a shortling, about the moonlight that found every corner of my room last night. it was so different, I couldn’t help but notice.

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