Tuesday, September 1, 2015

Sol and Luna

by Jim Rapp

Sol rose gently this morning,
emulating a moon-rise;
just as the day was dawning
he arrived in Luna’s guise.

He played a while in branches
pushing bushy leaves aside,
shining in broken tranches
to accommodate my eyes.

Soon he rose above the trees,
still Luna-like, his golden
face obscured by clouds and breeze;
his girth a merchant’s gulden.

The ruse did not long endure;
though her man had work to do
that clouds would not obscure,
old Sol winked, and Luna knew.

Luna knows at night’s command
her paramour, her source, will
flood her with his glory and
the night with light they'll fill.

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