last night I ignored
the full moon
did not dance
as she sang
in rounds, stayed under
the lamp watching flickering
figures move in blue
light, watching black
words dance on a white
page but
this morning when I woke she
was still there, hanging
among the tallest branches
waiting
to say goodbye
~~~
A Space to be Filled 
Ellen
Lovely poem! Such a great capture of a mood. Thanks.
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Thank you, Frances! I had fun with this one.
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Beautiful imagery, Ellen, and so evocative. I love reading this.
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Thank you, Dagne!
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