La Luna met the dogs as she crested the hill overlooking San Juan Portio. She was so looking forward to slipping in silently and seeing her reflections in the bay below - mirror glass still, a cool pool of luster on which to preen, shimmering, anxious and waiting to take her in. Instead, Her elegance met with the madding howl of a pack of baying beasts shredding tranquility and snapping at the nerves. The hounds of Mad Sol, would have none of this nightly visitation, none of it at all. HE would have her slip by, a mere sliver of herself, but she did so love to bloom, and tonight was in full glow. A monthly tidal episode neither one could control. A cold dark orb, he called her…void of anything of life. But he followed her, as others do – no more special in his majesty, than she will allow or give him credit for. And for the ruler of all, this was enough. He would rage in the frustration of his need but longed to glimpse her shadow, linger and taste the scent of her passing. La Luna was here but moments ago. We shared the same air.
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