Where’s the lost moon when you really need her?
Dark sky like an empty pocket or bed.
Marathon runner without a breather.
Bruised body limp, lifeless from all its bled.
Where are your eyes and smile when I need you?
Great Spirit alone seems never aligned
on a night like this, all stars fled from view,
Beethoven challenging my bleakest mind.
When Diana’s cloak hides her glowing disk,
when she flies deep into darkest forest,
loneliness tempts anxious lovers to risk
it all…slip from cave in bullet-proof vests…
dash through shadows to the distant valley…
serenade windows with lyrical pleas…
Roger Armbrust
April 14, 2020
