Which Moon

I can tell I’m feeling
downright jaunty
‘cause I didn’t take
that now obligatory,
three in the P.M.
Covid snooze

but bad news
to come-
and soon-
as the sun sets

another early evening
of a harvest moon descending
with revolving grift, grieving
and high wire deceiving

Our die cast
broadcast receiving
Mother Earth’s


I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.

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