Lunala
The moon waxes.
She unfurls her wings -
a dark blue crescent cuts
a swath through the starry sky -
and takes flight,
rising towards the heavens.
Gilded wings radiate
slivers of silver light;
Tips tucked in tight
at her midnight roost,
astral amplitude at its zenith.
The moon is full.
Casting light down
onto the darkened land,
Lunaala’s gaze sees all,
and watches over
those that slumber,
those that prowl,
those that hoot,
and those that howl.
The moon wanes.
From the indigo cosmos,
She descends
towards the horizon.
Her wings drooping;
Her face disappearing
behind the clouds and umbrage,
hiding from the sun’s mane.
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