I love to wander under the stars but the moonlit nights are best. I’d wander down to the river fabricating stories about my unknown neighbours as I passed their isolated rural houses. They were usually all curled up in bed asleep.
But one was always up, the house lit bright and music pounding out loud. Decided she was an artist working late at night when her muse ignited. Later found it was a single man missing his daughter who was abroad. We never know what another’s gone through as the moon shines down to guard our sleep.
moon beams bright shedding
light on this spring night showing
us another way …