Thoughts from the park: By the light of the moon

The waning crescent moon hangs low in the morning sky

as if balancing just above the frosty treetops.

Its delicate light illuminates the landscape

in all its glorious detail. Each blade of grass, each tussock,

hinting at things yet to come.

All this possibility is burnt away by the light of the rising sun.

Part of me stirs under the light of this moon

As if sensing what we may yet become

Dreaming of possibilities.