Poem-a-Day #7

 

Stranded

stranded along the road. Too soon, their laughter
rises and goes
"Not the Song, but After" by Nicholas Friedman

I went out in the night
to look at the moon
but I couldn’t find it.

I scanned the horizon
from east to west
but the only light

was electric, making
a shimmer of falling
snow. Too soon,

I was cold and turned
away, leaving the moon
alone in its fortress

of clouds, and entering
my own.