Full moon
traverse the hidden waves of the skies,
overseeing our bustling miniscule selves,
counting the clouds misting over her.
She brings dreams on her back in idleness,
resurrecting them for us to breathe in,
acknowledges the stars following in her wake.
The dew on the grass is her gift to morning
as she retreats, shown out by the new dawn
spreading its deep, fresh colour over the world.
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