Next in the Long-Running Poem Series About the Autumn of 2005

November 16, 2005
I’ve seen the moon twice

the last two nights at around the same time
crossing the street from the bus stop to my building

The first night it was hanging directly above
the big red vertical hotel neon sign
it was full
or nearly
and had a sort of small intense ring of illuminated mist around it
about as wide again as the moon itself
It didn’t look big
but was bright as hell inside its bright little aureola

Then the very next night
at more or less the same time
it was way over above the other end of the street
much lower down
and no halo
but even fuller and brighter and pressed right up
cheek to cheek
against the side of a tall dark building
And as I crossed the street and walked the few steps to my door
it winked and blinked at me though the branches of a tree

And all of this led me to the wondering question
Can
in a non-cheesy no-nonsense way
inanimate objects be your friends?
In the sense that you can need them
and rely upon their presence for comfort and reassurance

Many things seem to smile upon you
But then there is the question
pretty integral to the idea of friendship
of them needing you back

Maybe they do need you back
in a sort of tree-falls-in-the-forest
nature-abhors-a-vacuum
sort of way
In the sense that beauty needs to be seen by some conscious being
in order to really be beauty?

Alternatively though
isn’t the very fact that they
don’t
need you back
that they continue on their way regardless of you
and what happens to you
and how you are feeling
part of their charm?
part of what’s comforting about them?

The other day I told Bill
like my mama used to tell me
about the waves on the shore
how they always keep right on going
regardless of
well
regardless of everything really
Regardless of all
They are constant
but indifferent
and this is the very thing that makes them so reassuring to contemplate

So I don’t know



image source is here