Another Night
Twilight comes late now
streetlamps yawn
stretching their rusty iron necks
crackle and sputter
flying insects splatter
smashing against the glass casings
and my skull
thankfully the moon has more white hair
than I do
she hangs high in midair
quietly keeping vigil through the night
with no thought of dyeing it black
only shaking loose a dusting of starlight
thin as gauze
spread across the night
over my feverish brow
Twin
The pond and the moon are twins
where one is, the other follows
they
divide the night in equal halves
the lotus’s teardrops ripple
a thousand concentric circles
trapping the faded moon
a child with only the left half of its body
takes down a single tear
to nourish a withered branch
making the night darker still