It Takes So Few Watts (to erase the moon)

It takes so few seconds and so much courage
to turn off the lamps and let the moonlight stamp
an impression on the floor, let it show me
the ripples blown in the snow, banked at the grasses' base,
the raking textured face of poplars and ash.
clear, mild and still as if the wind itself is frozen.
it took so few watts to erase the moon
to turn window panes into black gypsy eyes
reflecting only me and my acquisitions
creating an unfathomable absence out there.

I can't read my books my page or my own pens' tracing.
I can't have it both ways; things of night or things of day
The typed straight line or the shrew trails traced
from a tunnel's mouth to the manna pile of kitchen scraps
visited and revisited. I see myself my words my tools my face or
the context the time the place,

or the hour written on my watch face.
checking locks and windows shut,
looking out, locking out the night
I turn on the light to the stairs.


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