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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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