Full Moon

Can you see the little light on the roof,

Wandering aimlessly, like the smoke

Of a cigar


Looking at you, unreachably high

Peacefully bright,

Ineffably far?


Do you hear the private words, slipping from

The cold lips, which taste of quiet,

And of burning Earth?


Can you see through the dark night of one star

The pale face, which, maybe, half-mirrors



Do you recognize the slow, doubtful steps

Of someone, whom others wrongly

Think strong,


You, who’ve seen this figure painfully walk

On her own through one too many

A night?


Do you look down on her ridiculous dreams,

On her memories, her hopes

And her fears?


Will you watch over the people she loves,

If her light, lost in white snows,



Tell me not that you are

But a soulless star,

Oh, Full Moon,


Blind and deaf

To little lights

On dark roofs