The lonely full moon floats
In an indifferent, all-black sky
above the busy, purposeless
to-and-fro of red and yellow
lights on the expressway.
What are you seeing,
O wide, wide-eyed Moon?
What are you trying to say, Moon,
with your round open mouth?
Would you impart whispered secrets,
lumined slivers of wisdom
could we but hear your voice?
Are you singing to us, O Moon,
the lullabies of the cosmos,
were the deafness of our ears to fall away?
Somewhere, at a lonely desk
in an indifferent room
with the moon's full face serenely shining above
A girl catches glimmers of something more
and silently scribbles poetry.
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