Drippy Moon

The moon so full
It drips into my life
With camera brimming
The moon fills the sight
And down spills some Moon
Bathing the lands of night
Making silver black...
And blue, silver sights

And when we hear the sylvan call
Of chirruping from every bowery
The silence is merely interrupted
By our own footsteps powering
The crush of leaf, the stir of dirt
The brush of branch, the curse of hurt
The dogs of hunt, the cats of meow
A scolding squirrel, an alarming bird

The paths slap back with every footstep
In magic and fantasy, and in science and fiction
Superstition being outpopulated and overcome
Afore they competed, and now lie battle done.
The mystery and dreams are still powered on
But the elves are scattered, the lore despun
Robots and Computers and Machine Guns and Ammo
These, were all but dreams someone loved
For gnomes too dream in Ages of Reason, you.

And so with adieu, the moon drips lower
The crickets grow quiet the night gets colder
And two lives snuggle
                       a little bit closer