Sometimes

The moon shines through my window
I can see it without lifting my weary, sleepy head.
If only it was that easy to see you.

To check on you.
To know you.

There’s just a sliver tonight,
Most of it is blocked by earth.
Missing.
Like you. And me. Us.

The wind howls and rattles the leaves.
The window shakes in anger.
The grass bows in submission from the weight
Of my questions.

Do you hate me? Love me? Forgive me?
Or am I forgotten? Swept away like leftover crumbs.
To be taken out on cleaning day.

The clouds are misleading.
Sometimes dark and thundering,
Sometimes pure and soft.
I guess it depends on the day
Or on your perspective.

That’s kind of how it is with my questions
At times pressing, demanding, even haunting.
Other times light and gently passing,
Not in desperate need of answers.

But like the moon, they come and go
Sometimes a sliver, sometimes consuming.
Sometimes easy to see, sometimes missing.
And sometimes, simply,
gone.