This day is a poem

This day is a poem where a blood red
moon will rise in a dark green landscape.
A lot of us will watch and some of us will
exclaim, talking out loud to an empty room.

This day is a poem where sound passes like 

time does when you are alone. First, it's a 

heavier force, stirring the light,
weaving through dust motes. Next,
a left behind silence is the end of

a prayer.

This day was a poem composed on a
blood red moon, in the company of ghosts,
while I was alone, seeing a current of time
weaving through light, talking out loud
to an empty room.