Ghosts

The morning moon, afloat now in the west Is white and insubstantial as a cloud So light is her impress And vapour hangs about her like a shroud She stuck around to greet the sun, before Dissolving at the edges of the earth Now to her score Must be added all the miracle of birth When she returns, as it is clear she must She’ll differ from the vision of before Take it on trust It will be she, though there be less of her, or more The day you left my orbit I believed We’d each embarked upon divergent paths But I have since received An education in the nature of the past The things that leave us don’t go far away The more things change the more they stay the same I begged you, stay I had no reason to; the sense of you remained