it rises
voluminously
as the sun is setting
over Independence

a harvest moon
closely draped
in a silvery shroud

the question seems to be
what pure thing
have we grown this season?
what thing
most beautifully wrought
have we to offer?

and what of this view
from the surface of the moon
a dark globe
slowly rolling its oceans
through a vast star strewn expanse
a dusting of tiny lights
clumped around bits of land?

©John Greenleaf-Maple – text and art