Erik Koeppel, “Golden Moon.”
Under a Golden Moon
This was a beginning:
Smoke lifting like mist
from the glow of coal and flame,
as we sat, humans around a fire,
listening while words
took the path of smoke,
rising into this night
under a golden moon,
Words, fire, and moon,
each a ward against the darkness,
its beasts and monsters.
Together, huddled close,
we listened,
as the storyteller sang.
—Erik Koeppel “Golden Moon”
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