Artemis and Apollo

Thick branches
create a frame,
stark against
silver landscapes.
The sun left,
tinging the sky
dark, with few lights.
The moon has gone again
to reflect stars, only,
on a pond’s surface.
Sturdy bodies work upwards,
breaking the tension,
to destroy small reflections–
the symphony peaks.
Stories of sun chasing moon
find their way across lips,
tales of love unrequited.
The moon disappeared,
from our view this evening,
because she has nearly
caught up to the sun.
What most don’t know:
the sun is her twin-
this is their game,
and they won long ago.

This entry was posted in Poetry.

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