Moon

Filled with the breath of cold-colored winds
and a mid-summer downpour, moon is calling.

Through broken clouds and harsh rains, she is
a performance ignored.

The sharpest spinning circles hewn by
ancient giants, the moon pulls on
the melancholy, dreamer, and roundtowner
alike.

Steaming, beaming, constantly gleaming,
moon is calling.
Can you hear its roar?