A Sickle In The Sky
Memories are fleeting
The crescent moon hangs like a sickle in the night sky
While I stare out my bedroom window
Listening to the crickets sing a song of sadness
An owl hoots in the eucalyptus grove
The hairs on my arms rise when a chilly breeze lifts the curtain
I wonder if you think of me too
The memories won’t leave me alone tonight
How can I tell you that I love you, I love you?
The lyrics you offered me instead of saying it
Why did we fight so hard against love?
A plover screams in the veld, calling her mate
The silver crescent moon still hangs in the sky when I crawl into bed
Tonight, I will dream of drives through the wilderness
Your arm hanging carelessly around my shoulders…
Wonderful poem
so marvelously descriptive.