In Our Near Geography (The Moon Is Too Loud) Poem by Luce Darwin

Staring out the window (makes life worth living)
I am a dreamer; on my own
A tree explodes in color
and shimmers like thousands of lights;
in Boston (my heart):
Like airplanes at it's airport (airports never sleep)
While a boy in a Western country
just wants to breathe clean air (I must be taking this for granted)
But my heart doesn't lie here (only sometimes)
The seasons are dramatic
Who cares about the picturesque mountains (I think I do)
This temperate forest is quiet in sunlight (this ecosystem must be nocturnal)
This could be my sancuary
If only my heart told me (to go for it)
Only maybe if it was yours too;
only if was your homeland (but you cross too many lines)
Though we are still the same (in our near geography)
How long would it take;
To walk to where you sleep (if you even sleep?)
The stars must keep you awake;
the moon must sing loudly
When it scrapes across the black sky (as it waxes and wanes)
I'll be awake listening (as I always am)
Don't be afraid; it will be okay
I'm there with you (in our near geography)
A map told me (I can reach out and touch you from here)
Do you ever hear me when I whisper I love you (or is the moon too loud to hear?)