Killing Moon

Men talk glibly enough about moonshine, as if they knew its qualities very well, and despised them. - Thoreau

the moon is full

it's had its fill

i hope tomorrow night it's not blood red

looking to kill

as once again i wait for it

my neck twisted, as i learn over the peeling, window sill

weak and dizzy from another day's cruel swoon

pistols drawn at a higher than high noon

it can't come too soon

as coyotes croon

the wind piles sand high into a dune

darkness strewn

at least it's not the same old tune

standing at the alter

dressed in my tuxedo

in a questionable month of june

once in a blue moon

Author's Note

"It becomes the moralist, too, to inquire what man might do to improve and beautify the system; what to make the stars shine more brightly, the sun more cheery and joyous, the moon more placid and content." - Thoreau