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Before Moonset

John Muro

Eyes still narrowed by sleep,

I’m lured by the warbling light

that comes from just beyond my

bedroom window – succor for

the dream-weary and woebegone –

where wind has been dispatched

to whet the edges of dormers with

shafts of moonlight, fastening

moss-softened shingles, glazing

dormer panes and soldering the

fluted columns of copper down-

spouts, while fireflies appear to

rise and fall like musical notes

beneath the soffits, silently seeding

the air with undulant sparks of

blond light, some rising heaven-

wards, others dispersed into the

emptiness that sits between the

leafy stubble of oaks, and still

others falling towards the sunken

sanctuary of lawn that’s littered

with a day’s detritus – overturned

baskets; the woolly spread of

blankets; a child’s spade and rake;

and a loose tangle of rope – as if

I had somehow stumbled upon

a fatigued nightfall toiling with

its assembly of homespun instruments

strewn across a matted earth, to

reclaim and repair what’s left of

this day before primitive dawn

knocks, startles and encircles the

world, displacing dream and wonder

with its cold clarity and well-

spring of wearisome light.

Twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize and, more recently, for the Best of the Net Award, John Muro is a resident of Connecticut, a graduate of Trinity College and a lover of all things chocolate. He has published two volumes of poems – In the Lilac Hour and Pastoral Suite – in 2020 and 2022, respectively. Both books were published by Antrim House, and both are available on Amazon. John’s poems have appeared in numerous literary journals and anthologies since 2020, including Acumen, Barnstorm, Euphony, Grey Sparrow, Moria, Sky Island and the Valparaiso Review. Instagram @johntmuro.

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