"La Fuite de la Lune"

La Fuite de la Lune

by: Oscar Wilde

To outer senses there is peace,

A dreamy peace on either hand,

Deep silence in the shadowy land,

Deep silence where the shadows cease.

 

Save for a cry that echoes shrill

From some lone bird disconsolate;

A corncrake calling to its mate;

The answer from the misty hill.

 

And suddenly the moon withdraws

Her sickle from the lightening skies,

And to her sombre cavern flies,

Wrapped in a veil of yellow gauze.

 

This week's Slice of Life encourages us to choose a poem that speaks to us, and a photo that goes with it. I took this photo today of a giant dried flower on one of the hills I walk. There were a few large stands of these, amid the burgeoning green of spring. I also recently listened to a podcast about Oscar Wilde and would like to familiarize myself more with his work. I see a parallel in the flight of the moon and the starkness of this flower.

See previous Slices of Life here.