The Moon is always there. A half blink of shadow, a crescent of an eyelash, opulent in fullness, spellbound in nothingness, and a friend.
I shared a moon painting last week ("Moonlit Evening" by Kawai Gyokudo), and before that I shared a poem written after O'Keeffe's "Spring." I'm not done with the moon or O'Keeffe!
The Witchery of the Moonbeams
by Edward Henry Potthast, 1857-1927
New York Street with Moon
by Georgia O'Keeffe