Upon Hanging Up the Phone (And Looking at the Sky) -5/25/05

As we were walking on some timeless night
(Your gaze was touching everything but mine)
I almost missed the theft, so swift and fine
By which your eyes have robbed the starts of light.

At first it was a disconcerting sight
For God did not intend the beauty thine
For use in ought but metaphor and sign
He knew, in flesh, it’d conquer any might.

But now there is a distance long that bars,
While we must speak with satellites and air
And I can never touch your eyes with mine.
Our laughter plays with comets and the stars
And, as I look outside my window there,
I swear your voice has stolen Luna’s shine.