Alone to witness the crash I
invited the moon to walk with me
on the harsh terrain

of the agony of a poem,
I wanted to give it as a collateral
for a shadow,

who has moved away from me.
The moondrink I will need again
for no turning to flesh

in naked rain of words
which climb and fall on the wet mountain of
my belief: it was crumbling

before my own eyes. The forgetful
age trudges like a tired cow coming
back home in evening.