Scattered cobblestones trace the path
Of cracks that line their weary faces
Paces fading into patterns
Sorely unkempt with time.
Rhythms quiet, unassuming
Rumors lost in circumstance
Dancing ‘round with withered leaf
And falling to the wind.
Open meadow, sheltered brow
With perspiration set
Met with consternation’s scent
And cast into despair.
Sending constellations guidance
Charting for a vacant shore
Sure of ill-intent, evading
Till night will come nevermore.
Moonlit Poetry 