High Moon

Photo by David Dibert on Unsplash

The high moon in a hard sky
Deep black with just a touch of blue,
Remembrance of forgotten hate
In your unpeopled world,
Fading the stars about you —
The million, million stars —
Till you alone remain.
And my heart beats, nervous
Underneath your never-passioned gaze,
Sharp memory of pain.
And yet I soften, moon —
That hatred was not yours;
It is but your brightness
Floods the winter sky,
And little stars
Peer out behind your back.
No, you were kind, dear friend…



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