Blood Moon Arising

Memories stir, almost visible,
A vague quiet knot in the pit
Cold chills in the still boneyard
An ominous feeling inside of it

Apparitions stir, uneasy
A glimpse of a flicker soon gone
Time just keeps on creeping on
With a creepiness all its own

There's a full blood moon arising
We're all dreaming the strangest dreams
It feels like a sackful of bruises
Pulling gently, slowly apart at the seams

Two days early, Halloween ghosts
Came for Bucky's head
The following Easter morning
Our father couldn't raise from the bed

Vague as a hint, subtle as air
A whisper felt in the souls of all
A soundless echo inside a cage
Resounding inside a dungeon wall

There's a full blood moon arising
We're all dreaming the strangest dreams
It feels like a sackful of bruises
Pulling gently, slowly apart at the seams

It might as well have been Mom's own life
Ending on that April day
It was never the same after that
She withered, and faded away

Who are these naked phantoms
Arriving unannounced at the door?
Poverty is no mere state of mind
In the hearts of the spiritually poor

There's a full blood moon arising
We're all dreaming the strangest dreams
It feels like a sackful of bruises
Pulling gently, slowly apart at the seams

I was five years old, and dancing
On an old eight-millimeter reel
An apparition, a wisp, phantasmic
How my memories feel

They smile and laugh, they taunt and they haunt
They're here, they're gone, they never leave
They dwell on the edge of awareness
They hide in the air we breathe

There's a full blood moon arising
We're all dreaming the strangest dreams
It feels like a sackful of bruises
Pulling gently, slowly apart at the seams

 © John Kennan 2-4-18