Image credit: Paraksa/Shutterstock.com
Each year it turns
This ancient world
My boat is tilted
Toward the moon’s hopeful light
There is land in sight
And there is comfort
This good night
I am aging
Like the wood
Of this sturdy boat
My bones creak
And sometimes moan
The ferryman
Still out of sight
This good night
Thoughtful moon
Hangs the world for me
Against this starry sky
It will beckon me
By and by
But not this year
And not this night
This good, good night
(c) Helen Valentina 2017
helenvalentina 
Just love this one….such a wonderful metaphor for aging.
Thanks so much! 🙂
Yeah, let’s save beckon for another night.
Yes, there will be time enough for that in good time, and no sooner. Thanks John! 🙂
😀