Overhead



When the moon hangs over your head
Hour after hour without an answer waits
Like a question mark in the dark
Or an empty platter of ghostly plates

You hope that nothing is the matter
And it is and it is not
Taking footsteps, echoing tread
Following you like incurious fates
When the moon hangs over your head



Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 597 times
Written on 2013-05-04 at 19:16

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Weariness comes to mind. Anxiousness, worry. This one makes me look forward to the sunshine.
2013-05-04


StillHoppin The PoetBay support member heart!
When dawn arrives at last
Sunlight caresses shoulders
And every cruel moonbeam
Was worth it?

Another well-written work :)
2013-05-04