The Red Moon
by
James Shammas
(Age: 44)
copyright 07-29-2005
Age Rating: 10 to 127
The second London bombings signal yet
Another day, as I sit alone on holiday
In my lazy seaside Amagansatt,
Far from places grander, chic or gay.
Sauntering back from my evening meal
I see it full and low and red like Mars.
It's redness bears an ancient rage,
Whose mother earth has spun off better days--
Pestilence and war, my own infernal woes
Just as hot-- a devil's red--
Rising like a tired sun bursting
Over a thousand cooler seas. From this bed,
I cannot ignore this wanton ruby pearl--
What it means for me:
Its glittering path of bouyant crimson sea
Stretching from horizon to homebound shore:
I must walk across-- ambivalently--
And pluck it from the sky.
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As they say "I hear your voice!"
What a powerful voice it is. A reaction to the horrors of the world, a heart full of dammed emotions-ready to burst at any moment???????????????
Very economical and direct. Every word is needed and no superfluous words exist.
The red moons are so beautiful, yet eerie, especially when it sits so low in the sky you think you can pluck it from the sky. I remember scaring my brother who was 5 at the last low, red moon (about a year ago) that aliens were coming to get him, the ground was going to split open and swallow everyone, and other frightening thoughts.
The imagery and similes used is fantastic, painting a clear picture of the ever watching moon.