The moon is in its first quarter.
It grows as it crosses the sky
Travels among the background of stars
Shines like hard diamonds.
The air is crisp,
Clear after the Norther
The wind gentle now.
Everything is sharp
In defined relief.
You move closer,
A sudden chill
Brings you to my arms
I snap you up
And wrap you
In happy embrace
And whisper how I love
The Fall.
Charles Darnell
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/quarter-moon-waxing/
