In The Moonlight Poem by Patti Masterman

In the moonlight, the room is all in silhouette:
The candles extinguished, the flowers sleeping
Through all the cavernous, hollowed hours, within their crystal vases.
The piano naps, large and indistinct; like a low, rumbling boulder
At the side of the brooding room, though it is silent now.
Still your hands linger over its keys, even in your restless sleep,
Your feet wandering over perhaps new ground
As your eyes take in vistas never before seen,
While mine feast down here, on the sameness of this room
That seems to know both of us, better than we know ourselves.
Dark or light, the shadows own our few days here;
Our flames can't show enough light to trace out the future.
One of us has a future appointment, somewhere distant
Leaving the other one here to weep a bounty, of invisible tears
And watch as the room slowly forgets their face..
Though I wish that I could tell you sometimes
That my eyes will always be here, watching you;
Here, from the reflections of glass and lacquer and crystal;
That all my love will be stored in here for eternity
As your own treasure store, your gift of cherishing.
And that you have only to touch the least thing;
Just the trailing edge of the drapery; to feel my kiss again,
Inside your being. But alas; we are not children any longer,
And nothing down here can last forever;
Because the only true savior of loneliness, is death itself.

(written to Lunz - Dew Climbs)