Campbell Yeoman, Grade 8
Down it fell, through the night
Faster and faster in fearless flight
Moon distorted in its core
Peering through the liquid floor.
Time seemed away from there
For nothing was without a care.
Then the gale swept through
Enforcing the curfew
The pitter-patter of miserable cries
Flung across the torn skies.
Flat and flightless
Bound to the ground; waiting
For the sun to lift it from its watery grave No longer death’s awful slave.