
Waning half moon
Stars small suns to other worlds
The smell of morning
No matter the evil,
the ugly,
or the political
The mystery is still here.
©photo and poem caf
Sunflower Seeds Meet The Full Moon
They sprout from safe darkness
dirty heads wearing remnants
of the seeds that birthed them
for now they are but inconsequential stalks
living on my window sill
While the pompously bright but barren moon
ogles them (I imagine enviously)
– these springy suns to be.
© photo and poem by caf