Memories of a Farmers Moon

Several years ago, but not so many, I sat down on a stone wall in the yard

Peering upwards at the blackness of space above, and the bright flickering of the stars

My heart not yet filled with impurities,

And vision not yet corrected from infirmities.

Yet the light from that night still illuminates a corner of my soul

On cold dark evenings I draw near to that extraordinary goal

Of a perfect night, when cool white light, bathed each object in its milky bath

Leaves of trees casting plays of shadows on the stony path.

An evening warm, not yet chilled

The cicadas shaking their maracas in the distance 

Even today, that night still thrills

All I have left are memories, daydreams and reminisces.