The slimmest sliver of a moon
Dangles in the blackest sky,
And as I cross the county line
And miss my turn and hum a tune
And watch the valley wishing by –
Why does it fade in such a way
Just when I need its brilliant shine?
Along a strange and perilous lane,
With sheerest bluffs long my right,
And all the landmarks of the day
Swallowed in the maw of night,
Why does the lady wink at me,
And blithely watch me lose my way?
She does not say, she does not say.
I squint into the darkling air
And wonder at her glowing curve,
The finest, thinnest, purest line.
And watching her, I almost swerve
Lookout Mtn., Georgia
Sept. 30, 2011
Copyright by the author