I wake and spend
The last hours
Of darkness
With no one
But the moon.
She listens
To my complaints
Like the good
Companion she is
And comforts me surely
With her light.
But she, like everyone,
Has her own life.
So finally I understand
That she has turned away,
Is no longer listening.
She wants me
To refold myself
Into my own life.
And, bending close,
As we all dream of doing, she rows with her white arms
Through the dark water
Which she adores.
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