Through the darkness, the moonlight cuts
A lonely gaze which I return;
Two friends greet each other once more,
Stoic; intimate: cold light burn.
Weary wanderer watches us.
The hoariest of observers,
Mankind’s patient companion.
A cold caress illuminates,
Gentle benevolence, the hushed
Pale faces, once florid now sleep.
I lay silent; enamoured with
The nocturnally present sphere.
Wondrous patterns creep around me.
A shadow emerges above,
There’s a recess in the plaster;
Great cavernous voids open up,
Like my friend’s pocked facial features.
Through nights of cloud or crisp cold air,
The giant alabaster stare,
Onward with the journey path,
I track progress o’er a starry cloth.
This sight; that light; another night.
Chased once again in a bluing morn.
Restfully, retreating raging dawn.