By Brenda Mox
As fortune passed its meridian,
the moon shut herself
within her chamber,
girdling the great hill hollow
where greenness grew
over brown beds
rich in verdure shadows,
giving force and fixedness
to new impressions.
From a cerulean sky
uniformly clear of clouds
or evil feeling,
the sun drank dew drops
from light illumined orchard trees
while early morning stillness
slumbered everywhere.
Brenda Mox is a poet and visual artist from Virginia. Her work has been published in Wingless Dreamer, Bewildering Stories, Down in the Dirt, Blaze Vox, Ariel Chart, Neo Poet, Discretionary Love, Corporeal Academy of Heart and Mind, Edge of Humanity, Poetry Pacific, New Myths, Poetry for Mental Health, Postcards from Young Unicorns journals, Eber and Wein Anthology.
Academy of the Heart And Mind 