Moody Night by Robb Monn
And the night is moody still with all it's changings
The crisp vibrant leaves, serrated blades alike
With green and imperfections,
Stop their pushing outwards to contemplate
Silhouettes vs. a starry sky, to mutter restless
And shake out the depth of the wind, hearing
Their brothers down the breeze call with
The coming movement -- rustling convections,
Long fingers of dark swaying up to the absent sun,
The close globe of the moon.
The night is moody still.
©1996 Robb Monn