Harvest moon

It’s late

Even by Saturday’s rate

Or so I think, nowadays

Next door the music is pounding

But I don’t care a bit

I couldn’t sleep if I tried

 

It rained earlier

But the clouds have escaped

The sky is clear

And a bright moon

Hangs in it

 

I try to draw my feelings

But they don’t seem to fit

I’m not tired

I’m not weak

But in some way, my spirit is pleasantly defeat

 

I’ve given up pretence

Not that I had much before

And hang out of the window, on the second floor

To get a better look

At the moon that hovers above me

 

So let the night while away

Let there be noise

I couldn’t sleep anyway

 

It’s late, in a way

In another it’s early

Who cares, anyway

There’s a brilliant moon above me

Author's Note

Wrote this in the fall of 2012.