Carving This Shapeless Thing

It’s always about the moon,
always about the rose,
the moon moon rose.

Love, the heart broken,
betrayal, lessons learned
beneath the moon.

Syllables for the saying
but mostly just braying
you you you.

Carving this shapeless thing,
hurt feeling aftermath,
into more tenable form.

That’s good
lesson by lesson we cope,
but to aggrandize

something so personal
with words not our own?
Overdone imagery,

those who came before
perhaps they already said it best,
and we must say something,

rose moon,
moon moon rose.

Daily poetry postings for your perusal. Scraps of intelligible thought Frankenstein stitched into a fabulous existential quilt. Feel free to talk poetry or philosophy with me--always interested in conversation and creation. >

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Posted in Poesy

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