Bones of the moon

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As memory fades in exchange for more exaggeration
it is hard to tell myself these eyes think what they thought
but clear as the day break over harvest land
this is the very story plot.....

The rust was the night's musk as we flit through the streets
running for a trolly of misleaded adventure
Eyes wrapped in the innocent cloth of a small town
never heading the danger we venture.

Little Jimmy leaps mimicing an old frog
as the trolly struts away with our excitement
and young boys flimsy curses strung out following it
till yawns replace our witty mouths and inticement

The boys around me slink off like beaten dogs
heads hung low enough to be sleepy hollow's kin
But as guts and courage came in full bottles
I shrank behind the bushes where leaves matted up like skin

That moment of mine and thereafter
is a permanent pigmentation
now imprinted in my mind
a simple lady and her correlation

Her image was laced in hazy winds
and she clearly was not really there
just a apparition floating unanounced
looking lost in night's air

She lead with casted eyes trapped under the nails
of her never ending pergatory walks
Her lips seem etched by charcoal and water
like a picture done with chalks

In my shrunken shock
I clenched the dry earth around me
holding onto the only reality
as I look the contrast of free

her petticoat dripped onto the metal path
the only sound condeming me
that this if a dream
would be forever the one I see

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Her eyes left lucid under a foggy veil
like a full moon behind the clouds
they were stiff and focused
like the strength of a mast's shrouds

My eyes were cast with evening dew
as I looked on to her ghostly frame
not beleiving what I was seeing
not beleiving my eyes claim

For as I looked on I remember her
leaving for that train
waves of cheerful sorrow
as she left us for a place called maine

For the reason for my tightened lips
and paralyzed sense from another
was all for the simple fact that this ghost
was my mother.......

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