A Song About the Moon

I wondered, as I stared up at the sky
This morning, is this half a moon enough?
The darkness lets a lot of things slip by:
Clouds vanish swiftly at a sudden puff,
A gust of wind in the unsettled night
Dispersing them to all the compass points,
Blowing the stars past in a burst of light,
Stinging my eyes, an aching in my joints.
I can’t remember all the folderol
About the blue moon, or the harvest moon
That comes around here early in the fall
And leaves, like autumn’s breath itself, too soon.
Do I anticipate despondency?
Not I. I love night, unreservedly.