The skunk
and the Dove
cross my path
it is a Void
Course of the Moon,
my love waits
for a sign:
(something to
show the way)
while aphids play
in tiny circles
on one rose, the
others having escaped,
a sure sign that
the world is
changing evidenced
by odd little fluffy
green balls
hanging from
an ancient tree
parked next to
my door, it has
seen many come
and go, and still
surprises with
these blooms
in the Void
Course of the Moon,
when nothing
is supposed to
happen, but
everything does,
ten spanking
new easels
fresh from the
writer’s eye
will hold the
first of Dyanna’s
Dream Shows,
secret art that
now, as it must,
evidence of
something more
than a longer
ray of sun
or the shy little
kitten who
hides in my garden,
but the belief
of the tide rolling
in to my Butterfly
Beach, promising
something special
always in tune
even thought it
is a Void Course
of the Moon…


©J.W.WINSLOW 5/1/13