Draining the Moon

At early dusk, I watch the locked moon and wonder: Shall I comprehend her still? Careless me, be better. For, we are the night, my sorrow, and when she's gone we are but alone. (this was a poetic exercise I did thanks to another poet's suggestion - took first and last lines from 4 of Robert Frost's - could be any poet - poems and mixed the words - then used them as my basis for vocabulary pool - didn't use all of them and the only word I added was "alone" at the end - simply because nothing else fit. What a way to stretch the brain!!! The four poems I used were: "The Sound of Trees", "My November Guest", "Locked Out" and "The Rabbit Hunter". )