Moon Song for a Night in May

I too invoked the moon
For love, once, meaning youth;
No wiser with the years,
I think she smiles, remembering
A certain night emdash; the brash
Confusions, fumblings, fears emdash;
Still song-struck and a fool for love
I walk the mad May night away
and think how dearer to the heart
is your hurt smile than all the goatish
clamors of the young, the touch
of your tired hand than jeweled wrists
uplifted in the dance; and pray
the spent heart and the broken breath
will find love’s other kingdom at the last.
Then sail white, high,
O thistle moon, the far
Skyways to your sea down bed,
For I go slain with love
And birds of midnight cry
Aloud their mortal cries
A sleeper dream-drunk beyond waking
deaf to the trumpets of the sun
on black catafalques of cloud
with sweat-drenched horses foaming
in the night cool wind, let me
go down aslant the moon’s white shafi
to your sea bed home; for I
am deathly stricken with the love
of all things beautiful and doomed.