Stranded
stranded along the road. Too soon, their laughter
rises and goes
"Not the Song, but After" by Nicholas Friedman
I went out in the night
to look at the moon
but I couldn’t find it.
I scanned the horizon
from east to west
but the only light
was electric, making
a shimmer of falling
snow. Too soon,
I was cold and turned
away, leaving the moon
alone in its fortress
of clouds, and entering
my own.
Leave a Reply