Moon Talk
by Tim G. Young
moonbeams unrecognized language
steadies my course
glares off and on my windshield
somehow communicates
among ancient mountain signposts
inside a tiny dancer dances in the sand
allowing imagination to sing
loud out loud as
speedometer fails to register
any proper speed
since the moonlight
will only acknowledge
so many revolutions per second
the night meanwhile hums
as clear as the shiny stars
answering everything the moonlight
can only hint at
but does so often
sometimes it's like writing it down
where are the moon and the stars really
just outside my window or
tucked inside
a speeding dream so fast
and far away
answers almost play on my lips
as distances converge
and play a highway tag
among tires and the hard road
and in this transitory dream
eons of lights play like tips
of candle flames
burning their telepathic
messages into singing stanzas
unleashed into the screaming quiet
of another countless night
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Author's Note
Driving under the moon.
Other stories by Tim G. Young
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"answers almost play on my lips
as distances converge
and play a highway tag
among tires and the hard road"
**
Hi Rachna K, thanks for reading.
"...the screaming quiet
of another countless night" Some fine imagery--visual and aural.
Much appreciated, Mathew.
Very evocative. I like:
"inside a tiny dancer dances in the sand"
Especially like the last stanza "screaming quiet of another countless night")
Many thanks, Erika and Kitty.
"burning their telepathic
messages into singing stanzas"
Nice.
Thanks for all your 'singing stanzas,' Darryl.
"and in this transitory dream
eons of lights play like tips
of candle flames"
Nice, Tim!