Poem

I’m viewing the grey lifeless skyline
hoping to soon see a dripping sunset.
I’m thinking the decaying leaves
are also disinterested in more soggy
New England October weather and
would rather trade it for the crispness
that often rides along, clinging to the winds,
while the moon is high, full and alive,
pushing away low lying cloud cover
to expose the naked sky and silent stars.

-M. Taggart