Moonlight

Moonlight dropping glinting running

Softly pounding feet on soil

Breathing quickly

swiftly losing

all that came

before

To find it chase it

seek it rush in past

the lowing evergreens

Quiet, no one sees you running

Quickly venture

round the bend

Slowly face the end

Tend

To your wavering, sputtering heart

Here in the dark

Inertia

Each morning

About seven o’clock

I forget everything I ever learned

To arise

will be impossible, I think

And eating

is far too much trouble

Dressing? I am not sure

that I know how

Facing the world? Too much,

too much to ask

Inertia

The tendency for objects to stay in their current state

When I move, indeed

I find it difficult to cease,

and at rest I jealously grasp this peace

To move forward requires trust

In something beyond this moment

beyond myself

Why does anyone get up in the morning?