Eighteen Moons

And he's gone, again
vanished from my world another night
with leaning, fading text
ends our painful daily rite

So many years now
have we gone along in such a way
resigning to good-nights
when I've so much left to say

No comfort have I
in all the promise of tomorrow
when my mind is churning
alone in all its sorrow

How am I to rest
without his consolatory touch
or have a peaceful heart
when I'm missing him so much

But I will go on
for remembering that sleep redeems
and I can fly to him
when I slip off into dreams