Waning crescent moon,
dark hued
and lovely in her diminishment,
cradles in upturned arms
the shadow of her fullness.
The dark roundness
heavy against the setting bow,
fills the void
of what once was abundance
and will be again.
Her ebbing light,
soon to darkness and rest
in a starry landscape,
until her rebirth,
the silver sliver loveliness of the
waxing crescent moon.
*** This poem was written several years ago. Now taking on a different meaning for me.
thecourseofourseasons 
definitely heavy with meaning here… and beautifully written, my dear!
❤
Such a beautiful poem
Thank you.
Yes, I was thinking of that other meaning, as I read. This is very beautiful.
Thanks, Sherry – will email you tomorrow.
Beautiful. And I can see how this can be read so differently depending on the decade of your life.
Thanks, Jen.
Gorgeous
Thank you.
You’re very welcome ♡