by moonlight

The tender spell of evening
waits not for those
who thrive on incarnations
of golden money sun drips,
emblazoned on promises
of empty success,
but for those who linger 
a while, and breathe
and sigh and
drink in the everything
that sits within reach
of minds that are patient enough
to watch to moon rise.

Photograph: “Luna Piena” via Flixr, licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0