I am the moon that refused to rise,
The placid reflection of lunar eyes
Whose lurid stare, like rising tides,
Tickles the Earth and then subsides.
I am the leafless winter tree:
My leaves I shed reluctantly;
An autumnal gale just set me free
To shiver and long for eternity.
I am the damp crepuscular cloud
That hovers, dark, heavy and proud,
That dares to defy the solar shroud
In whose fabric all life is endowed.
I trace the border of sea and shore
To keep at bay that eternal war;
Yet the battle’s ceaseless roar
Says I am all this, and nothing more.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
8:20 AM on a train from Providence, Rhode Island to New York City, New York