The late light

Tonight the moon was caught in
the black branches of the blossom
tree outside my window - the
moon had a gauzy halo of
mist around it and it could
not untangle itself from the
tree

this tree in Summer blossoms
with white, delicate flowers
and slender leaves turn red
in Autumn

dark has been my night, dark
has been the tunnel of
my life, I whisper, there
must be more to life than
work and death, than being
worked to death

O lord of the caught moon,
let the sun come to me, even late
let there be light

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