I used sit beneath the shroud
Of stars that swathed the sky,
And gaze at length, with wistfulness
At Moon’s cycloptic eye.

My eyes absorbed familiarly
What were in my own.
Her perfect luminescent face
Despite the scars that shown.

I wondered if she missed the earth
Around whom she did dance
And if she tried, fruitlessly
To catch his lonely glance.

They’d never touch or cross in path
On journey through the sky
She knew this, and so did I
No matter how she tried.

I wonder beneath the moon
All wrapped up in the sky
But now I know just how it feels
To only ever pine.