Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay
Moon Dust Late February, a cold moon hung in the sky I could feel moon dust in the air The stuff that dreams are made of Once in a while, a dream lingers Demanding to be remembered Turn the page to a darker side Nightmares can haunt for weeks When a walk in the woods becomes a horror movie When a hand shoots up from the ground Dragging you under through the roots On either side of the path, they whisper to each other A strange place where flowers grow in the dark Beautiful to look at, don’t touch they bite Being bitten by a rose is no fun Don’t go near the tall grass, they whip your skin Like an overgrown task master I expect to see welts on my skin when I wake Thank God, they are never there I am grateful for the night terrors Working on my mind Now, I have a new novel to write… ©AnitaDawes2022
Is it snowing where you are yet?
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