LONG NIGHT MOON

Winter tightens
its grip on the landscape

fastens the long night's cloak
about itself.

A moon hung
above an horizon

for the longest time.

The sun hangs its head
in shame.

I call your name.

Your name
like a spirit

that my breath
conjures up

nailed to the night
with stars

each precious sound
written in frost.

The world turns
and you

are not on it

I dare to speak
your absence.

Grief tightens
its grip.

I fling your name
like a stone

at a careless universe
that is not listening.

Death even further
beyond belief

than a small boy
can even begin

to...imagine.