We finished our wine
Talked our talks
Emptied our plates

We were waiting
waiting for the blood moon


The kids are asleep
The dogs are fed
The news are old

We were just waiting

Can you hear the wind?
Between the leaves
and behind the bushes

Shining in the dark of night
vibrant
stood up
a feeling

Sharp, round and buzzing red 
a feeling
pumping in the dark

We were just waiting
waiting for the blood moon

beneath our skin

Photo and poem: Mariana Gil
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The blood moon
Published:

The blood moon

Storytelling project. A summer night in the country side of Lemvig, Denmark. Photo and poem: Mariana Gil

Published: