Night Sky at the End of November

the moon falls low in crescent red
as if to mourn the stars long dead
whose souls still linger in the night
as distant spectres of their light
and as I wonder, heaven folds
this jeweled blanket ‘fore the cold
and endless empty universe
that watches down upon the cursed
mortals who ’neath it rest
the subjects of it’s celestial jest.

One comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s