Poem: Full Moon

Saturday night. Full February moon.

A starlit walk to clear my head

from a day indoors with a poorly son.

Gales and storms have rinsed the sky,

leaving behind branches on the ground,

a deep black blank canvas above.

Full moon, casting bright milky glow.

Centre stage, stars hidden by light as if by shadow.

Only brave Orion holding back the reflected light.

I walk through urban silence.

Little sound but distant cars and muffled tvs.

Too late for songbirds, too early for owls.

Drawn through the streets to the edges.

Walking until the lighting columns end.

A strategic gap. Darkness of fields between towns.

This unlit road is ancient, they say.

A road back in time.

Across neolithic fields.

Another night I'll cross the calling fields.

Another night, another moon.

Tonight my home calls stronger.