Through
the curtain
I
close the curtains of my bedroom window
nothing
is out there on the street to see
no
stalking cat nor bat cutting the moonlight
nothing
but the wind the stones the sea
and
on the moon herself the same expression
as
struck with shock as she was yesterday
the
only change of note is my own mood swing
and
even that is as predictable as the sky
the
single constant is the overarching question
as
I seal off my opaque curtain to ask why
this
realm of faint illusion and deep deception
continues
with vibration on its merry way
what
possible humanly comprehensible reason
represents
its separation of night from day
what
separates the earth from a moving ocean
how
inner struggle gives these games away
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