By Thomas Page
Oceans of the Moon
Dressed in telescope’s mirrors
On morning windshields.
Frost melting like the
Dawn into bright morning sun–
Apollo’s Commute.
The fallen snow grays
As it sees more of the day
Which will destroy it.
The perennials
Like the annuals
Seem faded in the freezing breeze.
Black ice, infused with
The concrete, mimic the road
Especially well.
Academy of the Heart And Mind 