Almost Timbral Moonlight as in a Theremin

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem 

Sliced moons shine up in space and far below

On things that now forget the sunlight, warm

They might be though, still.  Air contains the glow

From orbit’s disc which gives a different form

As ghosts might change a castle they reside

In in their haunting like thin spectres spread

Continuously through the air inside

And indivisible from air.  You dread

To breathe because the dungeon underneath

You leaks these several centuries later breath

From lungs exhaling screams on racks beneath

Your nose.  You cannot help but take in death.

  Yet through this night the unseen moonlit air

    Is like concealed hope or a strangled prayer.

The Theremin — Twenty Thousand Hertz – The stories behind the world’s most recognizable and interesting sounds. (20k.org)

~ Phillip Whidden