align (pale waning moon
lingers in naked branches) just
after sunrise when neapolitan
pastels sink to the horizon,
eyes blink and awe is the
The contours of the waning moon were clearly visible—my phone camera reveals only a very tiny patch of light behind the upper branches next to an abandoned bird nest.
I used Rictameter verse form for this nine-line poem adhering to syllable count:
2 4 6 8 10 8 6 4 2.