High above the stock-still lake,
the full moon rakes, the full moon rakes.
Placed more bets that it can take,
the full moon rakes, the full moon rakes.
Below, lost lovers wade and ache;
the full moon rakes, the full moon rakes.
The stars are dim as dead man’s flakes;
the full moon rakes, the full moon rakes.
Reflection widens pain’s outbreak;
the full moon rakes, the full moon rakes.
Upside down like ducks and drakes,
the full moon rakes, the full moon rakes.
The heart has no hydraulic breaks;
the full moon rakes, the full moon rakes.
Defy the odds, but mind the stakes;
the full moon rakes, the full moon rakes.
© khartless 2021, All Rights Reserved
Ingrid is host for tonight’s Poetics: Oral Poetry. Join us in crafting a poem intended to be shared aloud.





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