on this harvest moon

here, now, i wish to share with you some of the magnificent images i have captured in recent months, weeks, days...but alas, i find they exist only in my mind's eye, and to put into words that which can only be truly known by our perhaps most beautiful and mesmerizing of muscles, is not a task to which i might rise, tonight

as the full, harvest moon, rose in a pink haze over the light chop of the waves of lake harriet, i was there biding time on the other side of town, among the crowd, walking in anonymity with all the rest, as inconsequential and unnoticed as any one of the boats moored there in the shallows, gazing further toward sails full of wind

while tonight speaks of bright moonlight on salmon-pink gypsum, of peaches in sweet syrup, of the possibility of south america, and i remember that it sometimes takes a great deal longer than you imagine it ever could, to reap what has been sown, and bring the new seed in