Pencil Stubs Online
Reader Recommends


 

Waxing Moon

By John I. Blair

The waxing moon
Gleams high above the night,
Casting its light on trees, flowers,
The deck and me.

At one a.m. the air is cool,
Birds sleep, flowers hoard
Stores of nectar for morning bees,
Squirrels tuck noses deep in fur.

Among these ancient things
The only novelties
Are me and the boards
I, barefoot, stand upon.

©2017 John I. Blair, 9/9/2017


Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.


 

Refer a friend to this Poem

Your Name -
Your Email -
Friend's Name - 
Friends Email - 

 

Horizontal Navigator

 

HOME

To report problems with this page, email Webmaster

Copyright © 2002 AMEA Publications