Moon as red, as autumn wine,
that on this summer night so fine,
across the sky has slowly bled
like paint, unaccustomed to lines
or to creaking necks and upturned heads
that never before or after saw a moon as red.
There is a quiet quiver in the air,
on this summer night so fair,
when the moon is bled to slivers,
and laced with clouds that do not care
how much they mute the moon’s red river.
In your shoulders that night, though you know not why, there is a quiet quiver.
At DVerse today, we were asked to write a sparrowlet poem.
Photo by Anand Rathod on Unsplash
Seamus O'Shaughnessy, Jr. 
Love that glass of lunar wine. Cheers.
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Thank you 🙂
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I love this red wine image of the moon.
I don’t think you quite followed the form, but it’s still lovely.
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You should have seen it the first time I wrote it, pre edits. The form was all thrown aside 🙂
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It was tricky. 😊
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At least I got the rhyme scheme down, but I added some steps hehe
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Spine-tinglingly beautiful!
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Thank you!
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A distinct change in atmosphere in the 2nd stanza. I like the idea of the moon being aware it is being watched.
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I’m a big fan of personifying inanimate objects 🙂
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A night to remember the red moon. This form can be quite challenging but good for you for trying.
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🙂 Thanks!
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I love the way you made the wine sing a duet with the moon.
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Thank you! I’m glad you liked it 🙂
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Personification for the win, Seamus! 😀
-David
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