Ethereal Moon

Frost laden branches
of Birch spring to life
the wind cuts the air
that I breathe like a knife
the moon is translucent
it hangs there on high
in what is an almost lilac rich sky
an owl hoots quite near
a mouse scampers passed
and I sit and I write
in the light which is cast
beautiful shadows
on my floor boards
reflecting my life
and all its rewards
I love what is happening
to me at this time
and that I have the gift
to record it in rhyme

Dedicated to my amazing friend Claudia Ferri