Silver-sickled, celestial, circling satellite suspended in star-slung, far-flung skies.
Full-bellied billowing, voluminously glittering, luminously glistering in lunatics’ eyes.
The thrice-spinning moon threads stories through time, spun with the world-wending wisdom of old.
Prophesying poetry: there is magic in words; the weather-witch speaks of secrets foretold.
‘Lunar Lore’ by Kirstin Mills.
The poem above was inspired by a little nineteenth-century volume of collected Weather Folklore, in which the author, introducing a section on lore of the moon, referred to our luminous orb as a “weather witch.” “The moon too has always had her votaries, as a weather-witch,” he writes, (more…)
