Why waste this moon

… There won’t always be moonlight
When the softness of a zillion white photons
Drifts down on you like snow with no touch, no sound, no feel, no cold
Filtered thru branches and trees, windows and blinds
To settle all around
Making even romance seem possible in this stillness
Lasting for hours
As you breathe under the night’s warm liquidity

Until the dream is disturbed and broken
By the singular call of this first bird
Willing to go into a new day 

Alone

JLGrady