Eight-line Poems

Edge of the Moon

Edge of the Moon

The sliver of the crescent moon,
sharp scimitar scything through the stars,
riding high in the midnight sky,
reaps the dark fields of Diana’s hunt.

The earth turns fitful in its sleep,
eyes tight shut against the shadows,
dreams cavort in the waiting hours,
with eternity trembling in the wings.


Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 05.12.23
Prompt: Edge of the moon.