Tuesday, March 12, 2013

4180. MOONLIGHT

MOONLIGHT
Moonlight is dregs over a sad and
broken landscape  -  moonlight is
nothing at all. It is a tincture of taking,
a blight of delight. Moonlight only 
reflects  -  the big beam over the
trestle'd pond, the chafe of the
train dragging hoarsely itself over
the face of this Earth. It is sorrow,
and it is loss  -  to those who take
pleasure from all moonlight's old
cliches, I say : 'stand back and
listen to the moonlight's gloomy
sounds. Yes, even the birds sing
glumly of their darkened fates.
Moonlight is nothing at all.'

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