There’s a white halo around the moon.
First Quarter.
Indulgent innovations, investments;
All coming to fruition as I sit back in my chair and tilt my head as the cotton candy hued cirrus clouds surpass.
The first star of the night revealed itself and all I had on my mind was success and love.
Even when I walked backwards, steadily with trust and guidance; another hand wrapped around my own waist.
Captivated, elevated waiting to be picked up and swallowed by such sweetness portrayed in the skies.
Even as the pink cirrus dipped to coral, speeding swiftly in the highest realms.
A storm brewed to the north chasing east.
My black and white cat walked by my heels and ushered in that it was time to go inside.
And the street lights came on.
And the wandering star vaguely acknowledged it’s own presence.
And the smoke filled the air, caressing my locks leaving their own signature scent.
Even as falsehoods reigned,
And progress was not reported,
I continued to sit and relish in a sip of now cooled coffee.
The halo turned pink, around the moon.
Gestures at twelve o’clock right above the third eye.
I saw the hare’s legs jumping with no reveal to direction.
Half of a whole,
I may see.
I still hold the dime,
Not the penny.
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