The High Before Sunrise

The low moon is low
Hiding in the pale sky
Translucent
Barely present
But still the crescent of my eye

It pierces my sleep
And captures my mind
Imprinting images
Dancing, disturbing, until
I have to stare or go blind

And now I sit present
Under that bright ‘fore sunrise
As if this light should make sense
Rather than being a wonder
A miracle; one of life’s highs.

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