Lunaria

Now that I am
all done with spring
rampant in purple
and ragged leaves

and summer too
its great green moons
rising through
the breathless air

pale dusted like
the Luna's wings
I'd like to meet
October's chill

like the silver moonplant
Honesty
that bears toward winter
its dark seeds

a paper lantern
lit within
and shining in
the fallen leaves.

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