Cities and suburbs, real and imaginary.

Tuesday, January 12, 2021

Sonnet #327

Lazy as raccoons, the moon and stars extend

Into twilight’s curtain, and meander

In their nightly dance indifferent to the band there

Down below, the night birds and in toads, the end

Of all days could happen, and the moon ignores

All that is so small among the crowd of groundlings

Her dance is complex and beautiful and resounding

In revolving and positioning and restore

Pay no mind while dancing to the audience

Below, just dance slow and sweetly, languorous

Night — let the gentle threshold of the dalliance

Of this space between our fingers, arduous,

Ignore all of us, forever, and dance fair moon

When we stand upon your face, we swoon.

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