October 21, 2018

Benevolence / Harvest Moon by Michael Keshigian

Fall approached
with tender kiss
and startling display
gently unhooking
the verdant dress of summer
who blushed 
and dropped soft petals
to the ground
emerging pale and tired
in the unfamiliar setting
then curled
to keep herself warm
till a bearded man arrived
with white garb
to comfort her.


Flame red, 
a bouncing balloon,
every year
the harvest moon rolls
upon the hills
on the bottom of the sky
till dusk departs,
then it floats upward,
a gold coin in the deep dark pocket,
treading heaven gingerly,
a bassoon melody
amid the starry ostinato.
The Earth replies, 
a subtle hum,
oaks and elms kneel in vigil,
moonlit cows, astonished,
stare as the glow swells.
It sings 
until heaven is filled
with orange splendor,
plains of wheat respond
as flaxen fields melt.

Michael Keshigian, from New Hampshire, has been published in numerous national and international journals, recently including Aji, San Pedro River Review, Tipton Poetry Journal, Muddy River Review, Passager and has appeared as feature writer in over twenty publications with 6 Pushcart Prize and 2 Best Of The Net nominations. 

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