The moon is as full tonight as my heart;
it hangs low in the sky, brimming with light
that cascades in dimming circles that start
to lose their focus in the wet hot night.
Only half filled, and yet it seems so bright
and clear, despite the shrouding, cloying fog
that seeks to blur away the line of sight,
the soupy air laying like an old dog
panting, too worn out and winded to bark;
My heart, too, is tired, but satisfied
to sit under the carport in the dark
and ponder the world, beautiful and wide.
Half full? The rest lies in a shadow place,
and forms the smile that fills my face.
08 JUL 2003