Untitled

The blue moon rises
and I must be with her.

On the street,
the streetlight above me flickers dead
almost as if she is extending her hand
to invite me to dance.
Thus, I run.
I run to show that I am free;
to show that my freedom,
is something i choose
to spend with her.

I turn the corner
and lose her bright and full face from sight.
However, I travel under an unusual night sky tonight.
It's color is vivid and it reflects her features like a mirror.
I am still with her
wherever I go.

The night grows weary.
My perspiration runs rampant all over
and all too quickly,
like the waters flowing from a river,
I find it hard to catch my breathe.
My pace slows
as if to mimic the gradual ticking of a clock.
A cool breeze blows by,
and I know that it is her hand on my face,
spurring me to go on.

The blue moon fades,
but I will stay with her.

Reviews

[rachielle]

Great use of imagery and personification. Even though I didn't actually see this blue moon you were talking about, I saw it through your poem. Great job.:) Keep writing!