On the gray, flat roof of a Brooklyn building,
Square and safe and separate from the city,
Watching a crescent moon sink towards Manhattan,
Enjoying the night breeze after a hot day,
Saturn, rising over my left shoulder,
Is a tiny promise that reminds me of a tiny thought
From earlier that I wanted to release
From the silence and share:
That when you crave and follow your desire
You turn your back on that which craved
And leave that hopeless, needing part alone to wait
Perhaps until the moon waxes full, and
Tiny Saturn is gone, and you realize your mistake
And wait again, saying nothing, for the need’s return.
