On Monday evening
I stood with camera and tripod
on the busy curb of Franklin Street
between the Marines Memorial
and the Opera House,
photographing the December full moon
rising in its upward trajectory.
Even though I was
only inches away
from the noisy fast moving north-bound traffic,
racing like a dangerous river of white water;
the moon through my camera’s lens
slowly climbing up the flood-lit-for-Christmas City Hall dome
to the summit of the cupola,
made the dark cold night
a warm tranquil meditation . . .
soft, silent, and holy.
I was all alone
with the bright full moon’s revelation.
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