de Luna climbs up majestic fir brows one rung at a time
to feel the shiver of winter breeze tickle higher than treetops reach . where moonbeams know the meaning the shadows cast upon the open palms of nature’s hands
her halo encircles a shapeless luster beyond the faint whispers in northern skies
wishing on the nearest stars, set ablaze a smoldering heart grown cold
Fuego de Luna ~ Moon Fire is a moment framed, looking out my bedroom window into the forest, the final full moon rise of winter mesmerizing with a dreamful verve percolating mercilessly within insomnia