Superstitions guide our way
This thirteenth day of June
As night time falls
Across the sky
We see the Honey Moon

It follows us
Across the heavens
No matter where we walk
A face so eerily watches
But never does it talk

And we watch back
As it rises low
Across a blackened night
This colorless orb
That shines on us
Until the morning light

©2014 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved