A January Orange Moon

A January Orange Moon

A January orange moon climbs high,

A flame in the winter sky.

Rising near the Devil's Tower tall,

A sight that stirs, that beckons all.

Orange light spills across the stone,

Casting shadows where winds have blown.

The earth below, so still and wide,

Holds secrets in the moonlight's glide.

The towers stand with ancient grace,

As the fire moon lights up the space.

A whisper, a spark, a wild chance,

In the glow of the moon’s fierce dance.

A promise of power, a moment to see,

The orange moon rises, wild and free.