Moontalk

cloudy skies
incessant rain,
both combine
to prolong my ache,
another night
they hide
my moon
from my sight,

but i hear
her voice
through the musical
raindrops,
as if
she were there,
on the other end
of an old fashioned
telephone line,

whispering
through the distance
the sparkle
of her smile,
while uncharacteristically
tucked under
her own
satin night covers,
for once
needing a rest
to heal her shine,

messaging
in morse
through the
splattering rain drops,
a pitter a patter
a dot a dash,
telling me
she’s still around,
even if tonight
she’s not in sight.

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