These days the clouds
are making noise.
And love is hard to get.
On full moon nights,
couples secretly
come together –
murmuring their love talk.
Each seeking new
taste and texture.
As their tongues unfold,
the clouds dark and fluttering,
contemplate our
lover’s destruction.
And once again,
bring the winds
from the ancient tombs.
The departing sun smiles,
having seen this all before.
Moving on to another place,
where the twilight
silences the statues,
from the good old days.
A Wandering Poet 