Earlier in the evening the moon
was clear to the east,
over the snow of the yard
and fields---a lovely
bright clarity and perfect
roundness, isolate,
riding as they say the
black sky. Then we went
about our businesses of the
evening, eating supper, talking,
watching television, then
going to bed, making love,
and then to sleep. But before
we did I asked her to look
out the window at the moon
now straight up, so that
she bent her head and looked
sharply up, to see it.
Through the night it must
have shone on, in that
fact of things---another
moon, another night---a
full moon in the winter's
space, a white loneliness.
I came awake to the blue
white light in the darkness,
and felt as if someone
were there, waiting, alone.
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