I Called The Moon Down Into My Arms Last Night,
Holding Out My Hands Ahead Of Me In Expectation.
My Eyes Closed As If For A Kiss.
It Wasn’t That I Believed A Disc Of Light In The Sky
Would Slip Through The Window To Embrace Me.
It Was That I Wasn’t Sure.
Miracles Seemed Plausible For A Minute,
The Way Dreams Cling To Life At Sleep’s End,
When Morning Comes And Light Pries Open My Eyes
While I’m Still Thinking Of Answers To Questions
Posed In Slumber, Voiced By Insubstantial Creatures
Entirely Resident In My Imagination.