Ever
wake up
at 2
in
the
morning,
enveloped in
darkness,
nowhere to go,
no
one
to talk with?
Moon hung
out
there
like an old coat
clinging
to a
hook
Ever
think of the sky
as
just
a
big
closet?
Can’t find my slippers,
ah
there they are,
and they
fit
like Cinderella’s
except
there’s no fairy tale here
My bathrobe
is
proof
of that
Ever sit
middle
of
the
night
at the window
sill
looking out at
the
dark
pond?
The universe
is a pond
you
know
Clouds are swans
(most are anyway)
Stars quack,
some fly away
Yes
two am
is
a
place,
not a time
Would
you
join
me
at
the
window sill?
Sure,
bring a fishing pole!
Don’t know
what’s out there,
must be
something
Must be!
If
you
cast out
far
enough
