Ephemeral

Moonlight

drips from the pores of the sky and

shines light upon green gardens and barred

fences. The grey tint shows indifference on faces and in

our souls, reflecting a porcelain doll.

Goosebumps come and go looking for a home, something worth their while when

the wind wanders by, and whispers secrets

meant for the Sun.

The people reach at a dismal and indefinite sky with its stars

shedding wisdom to those seeking answers, delivering it on

a silver, somnolent platter. Their fingers outstretch, not knowing what comes next,

and cascade into a line waiting to feel

Alive.