Reminiscence

When the air is fresh, and the sky clear

And the moon is full, and the stars bright

I linger like one who might disappear

At the touch of a gentle breeze

That does not come and will not

Because the air is still.

I stand still and listen, and all I hear

Is the rush of the highway

And the horns of trains

And think on distances travelled

And places remained,

Loves unrequited, unconsummated

And botched by fate or poor judgement,

Or maybe one and the same;

Love lost for unpreparedness,

Lack of self-knowledge or knowledge

Of love itself, which made me drunk

For drinking beyond my health.

I think of times long past

To the days of childhood

When my demon held sway

And the lessons were simpler

But no less fraught with pain,

When joy was found in madness

That, because it was uncontained,

Made of me both a saint and a monster

In the span of a day.