Nights of Constancy

You know, it's almost midnight

and the moon always loses track of time.

I'd never stay too late anyways.

I am too aware of my own addiction to The Solitude.

Except for when I'm not.

I cracked the window late last evening,

God knows, I never want to tell the moon goodnight.

Because when I wake up, in sweat or shivers,

in the darkness of the early A.M,

or laughing as the wind waltzes in, around my feet,

since it knows I never cover them,

I realize it's a beautiful thing,

CONSTANCY.

He's still there outside my window,

like the song my dad would sing.

Oh Mr. Moon, Moon, bright and shiny Moon...

I realize that it seems pointless to worry,

goodnights are only goodnights.

And I'll evermore find comfort in the way,

the moon never says it either.