Gibbous

This is a poem I wrote months ago but I'd like to publish this again, this time, along with my first decent shot of the gibbous moon, during the wake of the July Super Moon.

By my window, I saw

A quarter moon hanging low.

So white against black

Its glows intense, knows no slack.

From whole, it waned.

Oblivion, it'll soon gain.

For seven nights, it'll rest.

Then, it'll wax to its best.