Blood Moon

I think back

And I can still taste

The cool harmattan wind

The sun, a mere shimmer of illumination

The smell of sweet scented lather

As I went through the motion of soap on fabric

Then came the man

And I could see

The crimson moon had risen

He moved in a dazed hair

Like an intoxicated, furious bull

His target, a not-so-innocent Fawn

Conscious of the whip of discipline

But so oblivious

Of the weight of its lash

‘mercy, I pray thee, have mercy’

But my words were as helpful

As detergent in hard water

For all the man saw

Were shades of red

The blood moon was at its apex

‘maybe I could restrain him’

A thought so mendacious, even for me

He pounced on his temptation

And it all became a blur

But when he came to

The blood moon had set

And all that remained was blood

And sweat……..and tears

Another hapless statistic

A moment of mindless mishap

And the blood moon had won again.

39470cookie-checkBlood Moon

Human. Just a little extra.

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