FULL MOON ON TOP OF A CHAMPAGNE PALM'S TIP

UPON AN ISLAND OF LIGHT

as i write this
i open the window

out there
is an island of light

it is the language
of the lamp
post

there is a lonely
soul somewhere
patient
with its sinful
body

holding his hat
on the side of his pants
slowly letting the night
pass
as the rain keeps on
falling

i am closing the window
now
resting my body in bed
beside
a woman in the middle
of her
sleep.