Night comes late now
and when it does
a corner of horizon
still glows like an ember
and so the day lingers,
reluctant to cede,
and the moon waits
to show its only face
again, starting to wax
or starting to wane,
how weary to be
a constant, let alone be
in constant motion,
if I were the moon
I might want to cease,
to disengage, to hide
away until here below
the oceans went quiet
for just one moment,
and if I were the tide,
I would welcome
the silence,
the serene
if brief reprieve
from gravity’s
endless aching–
OPTIONAL POETRY 
Loved it (but what’s new?). Gravity can be a real annoyance, can’t it?
LikeLike
Thank you! It does bring me down…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love your poem
LikeLike
Thank you!
LikeLike
Really
LikeLike
Brilliant!!
LikeLike
Thanks!
LikeLike
❤
There are no words to convey my love for this poem. I can sense the ache and longing to just stop for a bit in there. 🙂
LikeLike
Thank you… and wouldn’t it be lovely, just for a bit?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Without a doubt, yes.
LikeLike
*singing* Ohhhh, beautiful! So glad this is how I’m closing out my reading for today!
LikeLike
I am glad, too 🙂 Thank you for your kind words!
LikeLike
“gravity’s endless aching”
Such a great line.
LikeLike
Thank you!
LikeLike
Very well written 🙂
LikeLike
Thank you!
LikeLike