The moon was like a beacon
at the edge of the unknown
the clouds, a seeming mountain
of ethereal vapor blown
by winter winds so bitter
that I longed for my warm bed
but I am not a quitter
so I faced the night instead
and marveled at the vista
that unfolded in the sky
which made me slightly wistful
that soon it would blow by
my kingdom coated silver
by a single pitted coin
the ticking thief will pilfer
perpetually purloin.
Are You Reading Me?
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