RENAISSANCE by Oonah V Joslin Under a sense of duty we returned. We stood on the hill outside the house that was your home, remembering friends and loved ones we longed to see, now gone. The sparkling bay when Summer warmed our hearts. That night the moon hung pregnant with dark thoughts; whispering how long we'd dwelt in the umbra; bad blood not of our making; and how they say blood's thicker – but it’s not. The super-moon eclipsed the past; expunging it, absolving it. The cord that held you snapped and left a shining face. Light we turned North as if for the first time; no part of the heart left behind. North with no backward glance or stalking shadow. A super-blood-moon hung womb-like over the bay. Severed connections. Gyroscope Review - page 12 !