From my bedroom window, 11.12pm to 12.24am.
Have you ever seen the moon rise…
from a concrete-clustered sky?
Have you ever seen the moon-rounding..
in that space of time?
Up and away,
Perish and gone,
Into a space,
A time of its own..
Be as a bird perched on a frail branch that she feels bending beneath her, still she sings away all the same, knowing she has wings. – Victor Hugo