Molly at Nix the Comfort Zone is hosting
this week's roundup of poetic goodness with two
original poems: "Making Bread" and " Jam Gratitude."
I was visited by the muse and gifted four words for this poem on April 8th in the early morning hours of the super moon. I grabbed my phone and jotted them in Notes: baited, bathed, beguiled, bewitched.
It somehow seems appropriate that this poem is springing to life ten days later in the early morning hours, an odd time for writing that I've come to embrace when I spend the twoish, threeish hours of the night sleepless in Seattle.
I originally planned to illustrate the poem with some of my pictures, but as anyone knows who tries to capture the moon with the lens of an i-phone, the pictures never live up to the actual experience. I offer up these words, an attempt to capture my memorable, super moon experience of April 8th during the pandemic of 2020.
Baited, Bathed, Beguiled, Bewitched
Baited by early evening’s super moon on April 7
Tiptoeing at 1 am into spare bedroom’s brightness
Bathed in brilliance I linger in the stairway
Trying a different step for each picture
Beguiled by its come-hither call
Hypnotizing this afraid-of-the-dark gal
Bewitched by the light, I venture outside
Continuing the enchantment
Sustaining the wonder
Hearing the soft whooo whooo whooo of an owl moon