Beautiful in a different way

The night bathes the moon

in the gloom only the white of the moon shows

save the distant stars

I am gazing

at the moon

wondering whether it knows

about the sun

The one it reflects

and yet is hidden

I sometimes think

that I am the night to your day

but heaven is humility or so they say

but the moon when full

is beautiful in a different way.

Lament of the sparrowman

In a down and out town
Lives a man not occupied enough to be a clown
the jokes on him
and the joke wears thin
living in the past
cast in the jaws of hell that last
and captures all his virtues narrowed
by fate in acting up too late he is a sparrow
locked in a cage
Mindless and in a unconscious rage
he may tweet on Twitter
and he has a lot to witter
on about
but his mind is full of doubt
and opportunities don’t come often
to soften
the blows which rain down from people with agendas
who will take advantage of misadventure
and misfortune
he is a drunken loon
not by alcohol but by the moon
insanity is casting aspersions
and his friends leave and desert him
he yearns like the sparrow to fly free
but he hasn’t got heaven’s key
medical sedatives don’t inspire visions
What he needs is a decision
to break with the past.

In memory of the moon

Like the wolf is drawn to the moon

I saw you

your light, your gloom

eclipsed by the light of the night the moon

The wolf I fed

Bled in the dark

but hunted for light

fought alone for the stars which shine bright

In the night sky.

they couldn’t lie to me all those stars

for its in their truth they shone the way

I breathe you, breathe it in

I believe it with my toothy grin

I am the wolf let me win

the moons glow ripples in the lake

of tears but I can never get to her

but the moon shines on my fur

and I hear a murmur of your voice on the wind

which is long gone and kept within,

memory.