I wink at the moon for it knows my secret.
Its full, round face illuminates my tear.
Its brightness vanquishes the ache in my heart,
From wishing you were here.
There are no stars for wishing,
And it wouldn't be fair, I fear.
For wishing would keep you here with me
And not with your Father dear.
I sometimes hear your voice amid
the falling and waking hours.
I sometimes see you standing among
the growing and dieing flowers.
I sometimes smell your fragrance afresh
in warm summer showers.
I sometimes feel your touch atop
my hand to instill your powers.
The moon knows all this from a tear and a wink
How I hate that you're missing my life.
Is that selfish? Am I on the brink?
Well, I'm tired of playing the brave heart
With a quick smile and a faster blink
Because it's too far past the mourning time
For public signs of grief, so I must shrink
From the pain that only the moon knows.
I loathe the cancers that robbed you of life
From being a mother, grandmother, and wife.
I want to scream at the moon like a blaring fife
But instead I wink at the moon so I don't feel the knife
Thrust toward the depths of my strife.
My mother is dead, and the moon hears my bewailing
It sees my wink and sends my secret sailing
Toward the morning sun where promise is railing.
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