Beneath the Pale Moon

Dark skies swell with restless crows,

the pale moon rests like a coin on velvet,

stars lean close, murmuring in cold light.

Shadows stretch thin across the earth,

under the moon’s steady, unblinking eye.

I walk the road, chasing something unnamed.

Reflections rise from half-lost years,

voices tangled in the midnight wind.

Thoughts drift like brittle leaves down an empty street.

Dreams catch on threads of faint silver,

the air grown heavy with a quiet glow,

guided by constellations I can’t name.

In the dark sky, the moon keeps vigil,

casting light on the things I still dare to want.

By night’s end, my chest loosens,

the moon caught in the branches, keeping still.

© Dereck Pritchard, 2024. All Rights Reserved.
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