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Last night I saw the thin moon again by an occasional glimpse
so thin, like my mom's paper cutting sticking on my window, flat so faint, like a casual stroke, lightly brushing over the sky, a bit yellow so obscure, as if a street lamp blending into city lights, got lost
Isn't it strange every time I looked through my window had only seen this moon, thin and faint?
where is that moon, full and bright, bringing
fantasies to children aspirations to the young peace to the aged
muses to poets visions to prophets dreams to the ordinary
soul to body hope to people, and beauty to the world? |
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