Maybe you can’t carry the moon,
capture it like you do so many
fading sunsets, place them in your
pocket with cloudy bits dryer lint,
prod them across your monitor.
Maybe moonglow is the broken
hourglass you cup with greedy hands,
scrambling to capture the grains of sand
under Chronos’ unyielding gaze.
Or it’s the tide that throws them back,
crushed to rocks beneath trembling rush
until they beach and catch their breath.
Words and Coffee Writing 
I read it twice just for the richness of the images you painted! The juxtaposition of sunset and dryer lint and moonglow and a broken hourglass is genius!! Loved this one so very much! ❤
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Thank you! 😊
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I agree with Muri. The last line, especially. (K)
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Thank you! I’m glad you two enjoyed the poem!
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