glistering stars

on a cold autumn night


streets wind between buildings

like a maze


a rare passer-by out late

moves through the lamppost's spot of light


where went the warm dawn

whose copper sun shone slant


onto the awakening world

while I wept for all that was past?


the way to this moment was long and tough

but the moment itself briefer than brief


and now all that remains is

the rising of the last quarter moon






Content (c) 2008-2015 Philip Milito.