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COME OUT OLD MOON


For Sandy who
came with me
.

Hey, come out old moon,
sing that silvery tune
and wash our kayaks in light,
for the river's
too dark tonight,
winding us downstream
between shadows
framing a shoreless dream,
with only stars to flicker
through our fears,
we clutch our paddles,
silence grips our ears,
then see the bridge at last,
now double-decked, with
moving lights cast
on our plastic floats
-awakened, we land two
night-drenched boats.


The night the moon was late.
August 15, 2003



All written material © Bill Schechter, 2016
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