Friday, October 21, 2022

ASKING TOO MUCH

Those very rare 
moons, which ought to be 
waning 

but instead 
go on, wraithlike, unmercifully 
hanging, 

all distorted 
with the somnolent haze 
of pollution 

til you'd swear 
they were fuller, and much
nearer by than usual—

only prove to me now, 
as I pull the shade down on this 
last apartment window, 

how I've never loved those 
whom I've lost 
half as well 

as I do on the nights 
when I know they're not
close.