Blossoming moon
in the midnight sky,
ink black and speckled
with stars and souls.
A distant call bleeds
through the darkness,
a shadow creeps.
Clouds swallow the
suspended white orb
then there is nothingness.
Thank you for reading!
-Alina
Alina Happy Hansen
Writer in San Francisco, CA
- Crossroads
I saw her at the
Crossroads, black dog at her heel
A torch in her hand
Another drink, a day gone
Torch burning in the darkness