Share this story
Close X
Switch to Desktop Site


A milk-white moon, pale as a dream Hung gently down the road to home. Through the dark trees and sudden curves, Over the skidding hills and drops Dipping in shadows black as fear, Still the glimmer of loveliness, Leading me to where I came from, And I knew the things I trusted As a child were waiting me yet.

Follow Stories Like This
Get the Monitor stories you care about delivered to your inbox.