Loneliness

There is a moon tonight . . .
shining over the city bridge . . .
the metallic span is sparkling
with the ice of his cold touch . . .

the distance of uncounted sighs
stretch further than the end of time . . .
and the cries from the waters beneath. . .
scratch with rough fingers
at the shoulders of my back . . .
giving me a chill
that reaches beyond my dry bones . . .

a sullen island,
an appearance of trees, shaken
by a wistful breeze . .
leaves and branches, flaking off the
elusive black trunks . . . a shining,
and then a quick dance
of darkness,
black cutouts .  .  . shapes
fluttering down to the
bleakness beneath . . .

I find it hard to be
real
in this empty space of time . . .
a spear of light overhead
and then
a star flashes
into the stillness  . . .
a solid emptiness inside of me . . .
pours out like a pitcher
of ice cold water and
fills the cups of my eyes . . .
to the brim
and then spills over
to salt my face . . .