Great winged clouds flying
North by northwest, very high
In bright October.

A black crow flaps west
While a silver plane glides east:
Each in its spacetime.

Summer triangle,
Sliding into autumn now,
Down the sky's west slope.

Waning Harvest Moon
With a black eye, glaring down
On our bleary night.

One star-dazzled night
Outshines decades of dull years...
The color of God.


-- Bob Eklund (Los Angeles, U.S.A.)

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