Love the entire poem, especially the dilapidated skin of the moon. I’m re-blogging.
is the long slow heartbeat of that clock,
the tocking of hours and
the clicking of keys.
It seizes the day in fits and
starts and sputters, utters vapor
words to a chalkboard sky,
blows desert wind,
a dragon moon in dilapidated skin.
For Bjorn’s Meet the Bar prompt over at dVerse. Come play!