A day (Moon madness)

This  day 

of shadows 

and wind, 

bending treetops, 

moaning, 

and menacing,

in gusts,

and roars, 

bellows 

and invisible rushes 

across the hidden,

the hurrying dark

of February skies,

whilst above,

high above,

the rain washed 

streets, 

the puddles, 

and reflections, 

the blinking 

awakening lights 

of houses 

and homes,

the moon, slips 

between ocean skies 

of racing clouds, 

in buttermilk yellow, 

grinning madly,

wildly, 

at the morning 

storm.

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