The man gathered up his equipment at twilight. He pulled on his riding boots with the tarnished brass buckles over his dusty blue jeans with the white worn spots on the thighs. He knew it would be cold so he pulled a black wool sweater over his holey cotton knit…
Tag: moon
Poetry

Bring on the Cycling Dawn
Tragedy, joy and all manner of experience befall the individual in the night, for what occurs under the purview of the moon can seldom be explained entire in the plain sight of the sun. Is the night stronger? Maybe the night isn’t stronger as much as we are weaker…
Poetry

True Colors
Would that the man on the moon were a lonely fellow, perhaps reclining against the slope of some great crater, he might say that he had more insight under the print of his thumb than all of the Earthling extrospection gleamed from upon the snowy vantage of Everest. Perhaps he…