The bay moon crawls into the room
eight arms full of lunar presence
undulating with its own intelligence
writing visibly from within
it makes our skin all one color
before laying down on our bed
drawing in the tide
with the tenderness of its limbs
until we are the dream lovers
of each other
its reflection on the water
peering into its own distant eye
with a gentle voice that shares voices
with vanishing ink
Salvatore Ala 
extraordinary Sal. let yourself do this more often. this kens ancient knowledge, keens a primal knowing. bravo,
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Thanks Barbara! Yes, I will. I have been striving for this kind of thing. It seems at sixty I am developing a new openness. Thanks for your encouragement and best wishes! Sal.
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lovely lovely piece – wonderful flow and imagery!
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Thank you!
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