<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
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Face Shades with The Moon<\/strong><\/p>\n It came to me as a vision <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Kyle Garon<\/strong> has grown up in a small town, South Lake Tahoe. While growing up didn\u2019t know how to express himself, finally finding his talents in poetry. Everyday his passion keeps on growing and never gives up.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Face Shades with The Moon It came to me as a vision out from the winter cold, to my belief I find it to be real. On a night with the moon pale as the river dipped in silver ink. Before is the forest bared to soot and ash reek numb and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-17910","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17910","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=17910"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17910\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":17911,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17910\/revisions\/17911"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=17910"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=17910"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=17910"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nout from the winter cold,
\nto my belief
\nI find it to be real.
\nOn a night
\nwith the moon pale
\nas the river dipped in silver ink.
\nBefore is the forest
\nbared to soot and ash
\nreek numb and loneliness,
\nwhile streams of mists
\nflay over my eyes,
\njust a flicker of the hand
\nhinders at its touch.
\nI\u2019m draped in a feathery cloak
\nand the rest is shadow
\nexcept my face,
\nit shades with the moon.
\nGesturing behind myself
\na murder of crows
\nface to the mist
\nwith warm radiance reflecting,
\none perched
\nits juicy red eye leveled with mine.
\nAhead, figure with scents of reapers
\nscale to the frost covered trees
\nand decaying grass,
\nstems of their claws
\nburn ever slowly to rot.
\nThey\u2019ve stolen the face
\nof dead old men,
\nhollow sleepy eyes fixed on me.
\nLimping wave, the crows descend
\ninto a feathery whirlpool,
\nwatching each fall.
\nFade out into morning,
\nwalking through haze of drunkenness,
\na crow on the porch
\ndrops a red sun marble.<\/p>\n