On my back in the dark.
given up to night, I lie,
a fool aground. A suckling.
yearning, turning in want
and will, smothering
in the urges
of the underneath.

Up there
the spangled stars.
The moon: one-quarter lit
and on the wane.
Hiding its hollows
in its divide.

And the black
beyond.
That dark
that shades
the darkness.
That lacuna.

Night pulls me in

*

Night pulls me in
Night holds me still.

Night holds my wants
against my will,

until I am upended,

released to rise
again.

*

Oh stars, shining in from forever
ago, unfathomable in your million
millions (Why so many?) And
in your age. (How old?).
Your hearts exploding
into dust
somehow making us?

Oh moon, so cratered and so constant.
Growing darkness in the month's
declining shine, showing all fullness
shades to fading. Then back again.

Oh dear darkness
that sets all
the light alight.
Oh yes, our dear
goodnight.

*

Held, I hold.
Until
I take all in
again.

The milky ways of silken stars;
the mingled shades of ink between;
the black and blue; the human moon.
And all I’ve said and felt and seen.

All here. All held. All level held.
All level and forever held. Here,
in my own holding, in the empyrean.

~~~~~

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Watch out for “Coming To” a new poetry chapbook coming soon, another “Ten Thoughts About Love”.