
Harvest moon
Ripe for the picking
Bleeds though cotton field clouds
I pull the fluffy lint of the year
Try to avoid more cuts
From the sharp end of summer
As worse weather looms.

Harvest moon
Ripe for the picking
Bleeds though cotton field clouds
I pull the fluffy lint of the year
Try to avoid more cuts
From the sharp end of summer
As worse weather looms.
Sweet. Did you get to see it, by chance? Ours was sadly mummified by clouds, but I have many memories of that moon.
LikeLike
Oh, how haunting, Jeff. I remember it’s golden glory, but sadly we missed it due to the swaddling clouds. Those fires must be frightening for everyone. Hope the cooking season brings relief for those.
LikeLike
Leave a reply to johnlmalone Cancel reply