Saved by Moonlight


days like these my tongue sticks to my cheek and teeth
hiding from every banal word, every clichéd
thought, every remonstrance against a stingy
universe overheated with summer
and stifled with ubiquitous stupid
doing, done, potential and realized   .  .  .
but then some unuttered thought springs forward
begging audience and expression,   not
a great thought, deep or philosophical,
but a thought as real as moonlight on water   —
something true if simple in its beauty,
and my heart surges, eyes alight with stars,
hand reaches for stylus as my voice frees
itself from clenched silence to say and sing.

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