Chance Encounter
By Sharon Rasey
September 13, 2007
I take the trash to the curb
During that time between
Dusk and dark
When the sky is indigo
And blackness lies waiting.
The moon appears suddenly
From behind clouds,
A honey-colored crescent
Of a moon that slices through a
Swirl of grey and pink
Cotton-candy smoke
Winding it's way across
A universe of stars.
Startled and amazed I gaze
As the war continues,
The moonlight persists,
Eager to be seen,
Reluctant to leave the stage
And this role of a lifetime.
The swirling clouds float
Their gossamer dance,
Eager for the spotlight.
A game of hide and seek,
Catch and release,
Bound together in a dance
As old as time.
Who wins? I'll never know.
Depends on fate.
Isn't this our existence?
A game of chance?
About the author:
I'm a 68 year old retired grandmother. I love my husband and my family, creating handbuilt ceramic pieces, traveling, taking pictures and listening to NPR.
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