I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

16 September 2011


Now she is getting on
with her descent,
her gradual dwindling.

We too, ageing,
enter a waning phase.

Fearing the loss
of the other,
do we not notice
it happens bit by bit?

We shrink in
to four walls
a small town,
fewer activities.

These last two nights
I haven’t even wanted
to look at the moon

just like I don’t want
to watch you (or me)

go gradually
into the dark, into nothing
but a faint edge of light.

Journalling my relationship with the moon: 18

Submitted for dVerse Open Link Night 9 


  1. Nice. I really like the "into nothing but a faint edge of light".

  2. Thank you Unknowngnome. I confess I like that too! I worked really hard on that line. :)

  3. oh this is so sad...the dwindling...heavy with emotion....evocative...

  4. Familiarity seldom robs these reflections of angst for me. Here you give them a bit of a twist, linked to the moon that so quickly comes back from her dwindling, but also always returns to it. Last line is well-honed, as indeed, they all are.

  5. the waxing and waning of the moon....and life itself. A perfect comparison penned very well!

  6. Dwindling away, growing older, it does happen bit by bit, the years taking so many things away. And we don't want to think about it... But it is inevitable. Eventually we are going to just fade away..... I do think about it sometimes, now in my 50's, but I push those thoughts away and stay busy with a day. But you are so right.... each day is incomparably less than it used to be.... very deep emotions here..... I like your poem alot! Very well written......

  7. Impressively lean and transparent. I especially like "We shrink in / to four walls" and how you move from third-person singular to first-person plural to first-person singular.