the lost man chronicles
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just a man and the sassy Moon

As I was making my three tasses of espresso by the glimmer of twilight, I noticed an enchanting, delightful blue glow basking the backyard.

Curious, I careened through the house like a lonely specter and stepped outside onto the front porch with my mug, in nothing but my morning shorts and a hooded sweatshirt.

It took me a second to find her because She had swung like a pendulum forty-five degrees across the sky and now lie to the west like a perfectly-round, shiny new quarter at the bottom of a tropical and translucent blue sea. It was if last nightís eclipse and ecstasy had thoroughly washed Her and the dark canvas She lie sassily waiting upon, somehow exorcising Her of all the wanton impurities She had suggested She might exercise in me. And now, She gleamed grinning, like the token virtue of a model cadetís new medal.

This bright display at 4:30 AM was in sharp contrast to last nightís subtle spectacle at 10:30, when She was dressed to swoon in a dusky red dress, a nocturnal sheath of crimson intent, a gossamer night gown to entice all my creamy and creative dreams into being.

Earlier in the day a friend had professed that she was certain that the coming changes in the heavens were bound to move her, sway her from her normal languid mode into a sentimental mood, a ripening on the vine of becoming someone a bit more amorous and anxious for the unfolding of the unknown.

I had merely balked at the bewitching thought, my irreverence to her lusty intuition well hidden within the blindspot of the invisible and impalpable distance separating the electric caresses of our correspondence.

But at 2 AM a forgiving and benevolent spirit came to rouse me out of bed. She lifted me from my slumber as if She had slid her graceful hand underneath me and gently pushed me into an upright and erect position. With both bare feet firmly planted upon the cherry and cedar planks, I felt strangely awake and full of possibility.

Knowing it was much too early to start the day without assuredly being out of whack for much of the workday, I got up to drink half a glass of water, tinkled a bit and then went back to bed.

I smiled for a few minutes with my eyes wide open, charmed by the foolish notion that I could somehow escape the pull of the Moon. I closed my eyes, knowing that once again I had been kindly reminded that I was just a man.

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