Thirteen Moons

I write of our dreams while I’m dreaming of writing.

In the thirteen moons, there is a treasure.

From the whispers of this city, the poets live forever.

And for everyone who asks receives, now the lovers lie-a-teepee.

To the sounds of harps, God’s gift ran free.

And there our love came to be…


3 thoughts on “Thirteen Moons

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