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July Journal #22

by Don Mager

March 26, 2014







Sunset wilts slowly behind the bank

of busy dark trees.  Already in

full white stride the moon roars in, in bold

control of the eastern sky.  Stars dare

not compete.  Like a small tug ahead

of a huge lit barge, the twittering

light of an airplane guides its silent

arrow above the pregnant wholeness,

then, severing the umbilical,

moves apart.  Moon needs no guidance.  It

knows its way.  From park trails, bus stops,

porches and cars held hostage at red

traffic lights, its brazen confidence

attracts swarms of admiring eyes.

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