Pink Supermoon

The third time I woke up it finally made sense to just get out of bed and start the day. I came downstairs, opened the curtains, and saw this thing still floating over the trees. "Aha!" I thought, "So you're the one who kept me up all night!" 

Luckily it was a beautiful sight so I wandered outside in my pjs and took a few photos. 


Nights without sleep and days
     That burn like smoldering fire,
Nerves with the ceaseless cry
     Of wind in a tight-drawn wire --
Years of this leaving me nothing
     But a handful of songs like these,
That people think were happily written
     In an hour of ease.


Nights Without Sleep, by Sara Teasdale