:: Less than a Full Moon ::
Three nights past the turn of the decade
We reclined on the sofa - he, and he, and me
And a tub of dark orange chocolate Haagen Dazs
With Permanent Residence screening, and the leaves
Of the pot of Dumbcane flapping to the wind from the fan.
It has been three nights, and too much has passed
Already. The show was mediocre - between enunciations
Of uncomfortable Cantonese accents - my eyes were affixed
To the luster of the balcony floor, under the moonlight.
When the show ended, and it is time for bed
I took a glimpse above - it is less than half a moon
Yet shining, shining ever so bright.