The Moon has no June; has
never had a Harvest; knows nothing of
Honey; is neither Bitter nor
Blue; isn’t there to be
shot at, light Bombers’ paths or
illumine a Hunter’s prey;
doesn’t answer to Selene, Diana,
Astarte; cannot be Faithful or
Inconstant, even as it
slowly creeps away like a
grown child from a
demanding parent.
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Reblogged this on Fridayam's Blog.