here under the dark of the moon

the past breaks apart


the end of one cycle

rolls over to a beginning


and the whole damn thing

starts over again


our loves wiped clean

and our strengths sorely tried


in a few long minutes

the moon will turn new


and purged of ourselves

we'll still be who we are


that never changes

that's of no help


we'll feel in our blood

the shift of the phase


and only our consciousness

wild and depraved


will come to grief

will be our baggage


going forward into the now

that does not forgive


going forward into ourselves

and our enigmatic choice


to accept our breakage

or to forge a new alloy of heart and mind


to greet a new moon

that will soon turn old...



Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.