Winter Moon

It is the season

when the moon appears

brighter in the sky,

closer, more friendly

visiting my room as

It is wont to do

casting its beam across

the floor, up the

yellow-flowered wallpaper,

to settle on my vanity

Touching a dollar-store

brooch making the red gem

sparkle like the child who

gave it to me long years ago

giving me a rich stirring

of memories.

Always on the move the

moon highlights my bookcase

filled with journals and diaries

lingering over an open book

as though it might stay to

read my private thoughts.

It shifts its rays to a family photo

above the bed bringing a flood

of memories to my soul

of days long gone when life

was much simpler with family

and friends.

Too soon the moon continues

on its orbital journey leaving

a gift of a moonbeam filtered

through foliage to decorate

my window.

By Hazel Ross