Awe and Remembrance
Charles Suddeth
The moon is so fat it waddles among swirling mists,
The ripe night is afraid of nothing, afraid of no one,
Silence slithers over everything, a shrieking silence,
The breeze falls against rocks, breaking into dust devils.
The smoke of long ago fires fills my nostrils,
Images creep and crawl, nothing untouched.
Shadows bounce around, soon vanishing,
Blurs and blobs and blips lost in the forest.
Time wobbles and halts, in fear of that to come,
The frightening fragility of life all too apparent,
A man’s brief years soon lost in the dust,
Our dream time, best time.
During a full moon, I got up in the middle of the night and wrote this. I take no blame—the shadow self within me is wholly responsible.
C. T. Suddeth 
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