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nine lines, nine syllables, for the void-of-course moon |
| The Moon in Nine Racing toward an unseen future a void-of-course moon rises tonight. She glows like a luminous polder reclaimed from the black watery sky. Music twinkles out broken windows. Dogs in heat are barking at the moon. The void moon lacks a ruling planet. Span the gap. Be ruled only by soul. This life is too short for long regrets. |