The moon was sad as only the moon can be
Men in tears sought to flee the nightmare of their lives
We dream that with the fingers we can pluck

The calmness of flowers, the depths of moments,
The completeness of a live birth;
While sobs slide into tears
Remembering the smile of a mother,

On the fortunate day of a first kiss.
The past becomes a magnet,
Drunk with the all the heady scents of sadness
ingrained into the DNA of the everyday,
Gathering a dream into the heart of the matter
Eyes riveted on a stranger’s eyes

The mouth moves but I hear nothing
I see eyes blazing, her hair just-so,
In the street she remains the mistress of horology
And in the evening she skips the light fantastic
On the lawn where I saw a fairy cry bitter tears
For the beautiful sleep-spoiled child she had been.
She kept her eyes tightly closed
saw only snow white bunches of fragrant stars.