Which kind of light to be? I’ve said
“moonlight.” Now why, indeed? The red
of sunset’s glow washed over beach,
and darkness crept within my reach.
Illuminating moonlight comes
through inky, pitch-black skies, and strums
its haunting tune on night’s guitars.
Protection of the moon and stars
surrounds me in this field of flowers.
Stars, moonlight, field of flowers? All showers
that rinse off daytime’s residue,
preparing to make all things new.