the Black Breadth of Eternity

the Moon looked

listlessly at the ground

and its sparkling dew,

still feeling it to be

"Good."

There is something 

intensely pleasurable

in being so deeply

rooted

in the fullness

of the Earth,

man thought

with a roundness

slipping its horizon

in the autumnal mud;

the precipitous Fall

in fever locked 

forever within

the oneness

of Death;

burying itself

inch-by-inch

into the pool

where all of Life

is grasping

(for breath)