The turn is underway from summer to fall. The moon grows, still red, sitting close to mars. It’s been a bloodbath up there this season.
It’s hard to figure what effects us more, the news or stars above. I’ve been taught not to believe what I hear. Would those red stars inspire me in a different day? Does the good news quiet our basest instincts, make us insignificant to each other and the environment?
The mornings are cool finally. That I know and can report with confidence.