Dust and Water Vapor

Evening, folks. It’s about damn time I put out another poem. Here’s one I wrote on a recent trip when I could only just see the moon. I hope you like it. Without further ado…

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Dust and Water Vapor

In the light of one sullen moon,

did sanguine, red wine cross his lips,

dripping and dripping into the abyss.

What sordid passion is this?

~

There sat an ignoble moon,

possessed of dark clouds 

concealing its sight,

but for one sultry glimpse

by one half-mad loon.

~

So traveled as he was,

in this place he had been,

did fear still alight

in the hearts of some men.

~

Filtered then

by so much dust and so much vapor

was the light of the moon

doomed once again to taper.