Peach coloured waning moon
Rocking horse ridden through deep deep space
Only the rockers illuminated
Only the peach coloured rockers glisten
The black muzzled horse and the black cloaked rider
Invisible to my half blind eye
As I track the trajectory of the moon
Through antiquated opera glasses
There is no Man in the Moon I mutter
There is no horse on peach coloured rockers
But the child in my dreams is weeping rose petals
The child in my dreams is too sad to weep tears
Meanwhile the moon slowly wanes to a sliver
Beneath the bridle of the black cloaked rider
Trevor John Karsavin Potter
August 12th. 2020.
This may or may not be a childrens poem.
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