Dancing Dust

Poems by Mollie Caird (1922-2000)

The moon
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Fair and pitilessly bright
The unsullied moon illumines white
The black moss clinging to the stone —
As God the uncomprehending night
Of secrets I had thought my own.

O God!  Show mercy in thy power,
And blast not the aspiring flower,
Nor canker the implicit bud;
Have pity on me in that hour
When the moon is turned to blood.


Undated, 1943-44