There and Back Again
THE WITNESS
The mad man in the moon watches, a wakeful witness
By pale, opalescent light he patiently waits
He stirs a towering tide of sea and tears
Unseen by those caught behind the wrought iron gates.
His mournful messenger swoops on silent wings
A graceful, grey shadow dancing with penitent pines
Awaiting the miniscule, mousy, movement in dry, dead leaves
Unseen by marble figures who lie entwined.
He comes with shambling, shuffling step
Eyes dull with grief, sunshine days ignored
Only ventures out by night, low street-lamp glow
To visit his memories and wish his wife restored.
With trembling fingers he unravels paper parcel
Lays out the instruments to end his desperate despair
And with only statues and gargoyles to witness
Red blood flows as his sobs rent the air.
And the mad man in the moon silently watches.
By pale, opalescent light he patiently waits
He stirs a towering tide of sea and tears
Unseen by those caught behind the wrought iron gates.
His mournful messenger swoops on silent wings
A graceful, grey shadow dancing with penitent pines
Awaiting the miniscule, mousy, movement in dry, dead leaves
Unseen by marble figures who lie entwined.
He comes with shambling, shuffling step
Eyes dull with grief, sunshine days ignored
Only ventures out by night, low street-lamp glow
To visit his memories and wish his wife restored.
With trembling fingers he unravels paper parcel
Lays out the instruments to end his desperate despair
And with only statues and gargoyles to witness
Red blood flows as his sobs rent the air.
And the mad man in the moon silently watches.
