The Drop

The Moon is placed upon the vault of stars,

Atop the greenish dunes of elder pines,

I spy the red and rusty hues of Mars.

My eyes do track the countless dusty lines

Of endless lights all questing for their place

And so I look way up at where they roam.

Perhaps up there, far out and deep in space

There is that lonely light to take me home.

I do not know how long I strove to find

An answer dwelling there amid the dark.

Across a sea-shorn cliff, I struggled blind,

Perhaps, and yet, is that, I can’t…oh! Hark!

I thought I saw, I tripped, a fall I gave,

And dropping down, I only found a grave.