You ask of me
why are your
poems so sad?
i whisper.
Even the moon
shining in full wonder
has a darkside
that it keeps hidden.
All the countless stars
that watch over
us since the first night
fade in the
waking hours of day.
I think what
you really wanted to ask me
is am I as sad as my poems?
I answer with a poem
Ask the moon
what it has seen
Ask the stars
what they have
witnessed.
And know that
even poems
are only white
Until the dark ink
spills onto the paper.