It’s a sultry eve,
And I’m waking from a three week dream
Full of fitful, sleepless nights;
So the fact that it’s a midnight drive
Down dark country roads means nothing
To a clock and timeless life.
The windows are down,
And there is still no chill,
As the wind blows freely through the hair;
And the damp summery smells
Awaken the senses,
And are reminders of bygone summers fair.
The only thing…
An important one…
It is bright out and I notice high in the sky,
That the moon is round and nearly full.
It is cloudless; the moon lights the landscape;
But it is truly wasted on this one guy.
No matter how bright,
No matter how full, and white…
The moon that cannot be shared
Is truly the blue one
That songs are sung about
When one you care for is not there.
7-30-2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem