moon, my love

poems, shamanic 1 Minute

©2022 Michael Raven

we were madness
-- that much recalled

feathered and furred
interred in dirt
waiting mandrake days
in the company of
grandfather red
who spotted his white
shadows in night

i howled back then
i am sure
head back, spellbound
naked and savage
painted near black
with woad

sometimes still calling
i drift eyes skyward
hoping to capture your
manic glow
Published

6 thoughts on “moon, my love”

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