The last quarter moon of the dying year,
Pendant behind a naked cottonwood tree
On a frosty, dawning morning
With the back of her silver head
Turned to the waking sun.
Quiet like the waters
Of Galilee
After the Lord had bid them
“Peace be still.”
O silent beauty, indestructible!
Dead do they say?
Would god that shall seem
So beautiful in death……..
