The moon was sad as only the moon can be.
Men in tears fleeing the nightmare of their years.
Some fellows dream that with your fingers
You can pluck and hold tightly
The calmness of flowers, the depth of a moment,
The completeness of a live birth.
Outside, white sobs slide into our ears.
Remembering the smile of our mother,
On the fortunate day of her first kiss.
The past is a magnet and I am a tin man
Drunk with the heady scents of sadness
Ingrained into the DNA of the everyday.
Dreaming is the heart of the matter
Eyes riveted on a stranger's eyes,
Mouth moves but I hear nothing.
Eyes blazing, her hair just-so,
She remains the mistress of horology.
In the evening she skips the light fantastic
On the same hollow lawn
Where I saw a fairy cry bitter tears
For the beautiful sleep spoiled child she had been.
Keep your eyes tightly closed, smell the fear disappear,
Dispersed by snow-white bunches of fragrant stars.