Poetry

I was coming home from a wake last night. I was on this stretch of road in Warren, and the almost full moon was shining over a field. I know moon poems are cliche, but this one sorta just came to me. I tried to get it into a proper haiku form, but I couldn’t say what I wanted to within the form. Finally I just figured “Look, it hasn’t got the right amount of syllables. The feel, though, is decent. So keep what you got.” Here it is.

———————–

The moon hangs luminous
in the mid-winter blue black sky
A Victorian milk-glass door knob.

I finally
got enough clothes
to do a load
of laundry.

I finally
finished the
leftovers
from Monday.

I wish you’d come home.

I called
home today to tell you
something.
You didn’t answer.

I forgot
and made you coffee
this morning.