A chilly and crisp Thursday night
I rolled out the two garbage bins
I set them alongside the sidewalk
Broke the silence with their thundering din

A tough week, a tough month, a tough lifetime
I sit down on the curb and I sigh
The cold stops its journey within me
I look up and stare at the sky

And there, on the blackness, that infinite canvas
The moon looms, an orb of sharp white
I think of her staring off through her window
Is the moon that I see in her sight