Crescent Moon
By Diane Revell
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Aimed skyward, filled with earthshine Aimed down a scimitar, slices the dark Faint hope fades with advancing night No return of love’s light to my door, Sound of gunfire grips my heart Dread transforms to despair Phone call for my reaction To news I had not heard before, Moon has set, yet no son arrives, On the desk, yesterday’s homework haunts His backpack awaits remaining empty - Forever a memorial. |
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