Nothing could quell it —
the yearning I was sure had
gone away had only got
brighter as the sun lay down at dusk,
its glow intensified and
warmed my heart as the
white cold moon
rose from her bed, opened her eyes, and looked
upon her world, gazed like a lover over
the naked skin of the
earth, while rising high
in the sky with its wall
of stars and its blanket of
clouds, and in her ears the
moon heard the cries of birds, and in the court,
her very rising causing
all beasts to bay, crazed and amazed, undefined
and unseen in the shadows,
and she listened tenderly like a mother to
all souls whose pain does lurk

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A Golden Shovel poem based on the following line from Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights: “It had got dusk, and the moon looked over the high wall of the court, causing undefined shadows to lurk…”