the moon fatteneth
there cometh notions various and fevered
to those toiling beneath
her heatless glow

craftsmen study their makings
with new eyes
and figures in candlelight
run quills dry
and faces press against cold panes
eyes swept towards
the lunacy
climbing the firmament

and as she groweth her roundest
and brightest
amongst clutters of drinkingtables
or beside homefires
some gather to share these notions
as they've writ them
or perhaps heard them
in the howl of a lone beast

and what sayeth you, my full moon friend?


email, sent early 1999.






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All contents ©2007 Matt Bonner, Red Ember Publishing, Deckboard Music, and/or Stone Circle Records, except where noted.