December 2 poem: The Moons by Grevel Lindop Too many moons to fill an almanac: the half, the quarters, and the slices between black new and silvercoin full – pearl tossed and netted in webs of cloud, thread of light with the dull disc in its loop, gold shaving afloat on the horizon of harvest – How many times did you call me from the house, or from my desk to the window, just to see? Should I string them all on a necklace for you? Impossible, though you gave them all to me. Still some of their light reflects from memory. Here it is, distant gleam on the page of a book. * * * Hear it read by Malcolm Guite here:

Posted by Tara Owens, Abbess at 2021-12-02 12:12:32 UTC