The Drop
Sep 27, 2021
The Moon is placed upon the vault of stars,
Atop the greenish dunes of elder pines,
I spy the red and rusty hues of Mars.
My eyes do track the countless dusty lines
Of endless lights all questing for their place
And so I look way up at where they roam.
Perhaps up there, far out and deep in space
There is that lonely light to take me home.
I do not know how long I strove to find
An answer dwelling there amid the dark.
Across a sea-shorn cliff, I struggled blind,
Perhaps, and yet, is that, I can’t…oh! Hark!
I thought I saw, I tripped, a fall I gave,
And dropping down, I only found a grave.