In the silent, comfortable company of nobody
Naked, I immerse myself ‘til soaked in silver light that falls
Is the Moon looking at me?
Quixotically, quicksilver, time passing all too soon
And I’m dancing with a salacious, silver, shining ball
Am I looking at the Moon?
Bright, so blinding bright that I cannot see
Insane, exotic madness initiates its call
Is the Moon looking at me?
The sublime lines of Claire de Lune
Hypnotic highs and lows envelope me within its thrall
Am I looking at the Moon?
A once-dark, haunted landscape becomes a white sea
Shimmering grass and tall trees covered by a ghostly grey shawl.
Is the Moon looking at me?
In a luminous looniness drunken swoon
I experience the whole world so differently
Am I looking at the Moon?
Or is the Moon looking at me?
by Stephen Thatcher
