Rugged waves
to gilded beams
and shaking off
the dust of dreams

Today would be a day just like any other day.

Today the sun vanished, quietly slipping on a coat and hat and gingerly tip-toeing out the back door while everyone slept.

Today the moon had slapped together a hasty suitcase, and stole out to meet him under cover of a night pregnant with cricket sounds. She hadn’t had time to ask questions, her only concern was to follow him wherever he planned to go.

The sun (through centuries of solar sameness) had grown increasingly restless, weary of inhabiting his fixed position within the universe. Tired of shouldering the weight of…

J.C. Hibbing

Queen of the North Country

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