Drifting Fog

It's late tonight, and I'm floating away to whatever iTunes randoms up. It was a very pleasant day. I've hit the Done point, though. Nothing but ashes suspended in air; a small grey cloud hazing the night. Let me brainstorm, and see what falls out.

~

Halos on a night round the moon.
I look at it. It shines on me.
It's a rare night that shadows
prance about me. The cool white light
lifts my arms in dancing worship.
I spin on the damp grass to fall
in charcoal shadows;
so dark and soft in an explosion
of soot. An ebon splash of dark.
It's past curfew and I'm a thousand years
too late to ascend the stars. The planes
I've been on only take me past
the horizon, chasing night and day.
No shadows tangle my yearning feet
in their memory of the moon
singing them home. Only the
chill pressured seat journeying,
returning the ground.