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Bad Seeing

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In a wretched mental rut

I slammed my book shut

and went out.

Slowly my tired eyes in rimming reams

Failingly formed black evergreens:

Silent shouts at the sky.

Strident shadows of stately wisdom,

the soaring spruce and poignant pine

One by one in a might line

Ventured serenely out of oblivion.

The moon for the stars was too full and bright;

It blotted the most beautiful outright

into a milky-hazing.

Venus reflected her love-lorn best

from the night-glow of the West,

while one can expect

In crisp cold winter air

Tender stars so bright and fair

That spots of snow bedeck Bernice’s hair.

The moon,

The silken moon with her linen light

ruined the night

for star-gazing;

But where can the fool be

who cannot see

Better – by the light of the love of the moon?

For Amalie – June 15, 1967

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Written by peterkrey

August 7, 2006 at 7:38 pm

Posted in My Poems

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