A Moon for Every Season

Over a crown of mountains, the sky opened. And through the parting veil bloomed the autumn moon: Burning, huge, larded in vapor. Smoking like a tropospheric fumarole. Swollen hot with a fever absent the wind-bitten slopes and rippling waters of the mountain tarn. And the moon neared—terrifically. Its swelling luminance burst through night’s black nimbostratus [ ] The post A Moon for Every Season…