This poem was published three times, making it one of my best-received. Another sad character study, like (though more unlike) Twilight Child; this described a flesh-and-blood person, not a fictional one. Between these two and Camille Claudel, there was a clear insanity theme running through my mind in those days. Hmmm… must’ve been my day job.

Luna Vita

Twilit, waiflike, as last week
Shrouded in meager, chilled black
Slept you? where? and this night?

Straggly runny hair
Omni eyes scattering
Focus-free, restless, fleeing
As your minimal shuffle scuttles
Escaping – what?

Surely not my sympathetic ear?
Hateful thought: I can do no thing
Can’t know your need – you’re not telling
I won’t hear of madness –
 fantasy convenience!

How dimmed your Luna strength?
Who damned?
Luna substance reflecting
 empty uncaring neon our blank faces
Your warm halo obscured
Your wild quarter-moon face –
 half mystery – half heartbreaking luminosity
  too clear to feeling eyes

Adrift through inner city space
Random crash some distant, freezing corner
You’re not circling me – are you?

Leave the clouds – hiding your shadow
Embrace your earth – sing your own light
Your ecstatic erratic self
A goddess now closed to us all
 regardless we see you

Some little thing –
 maybe a cup of tea
  could be your world now
Wait! It’s not all cold!

(3/14/94)