Eclipsed

I fled the house again. Outside I see
the new moon night stand high above me, cold
and full of stars, too beautiful, and far,

and truly unattainable, a half-
familiar, half-forbidding beauty like
a knowing woman in the bloom of life

that keeps her cruel distance: you may talk
along the lines tradition has set out,
and gravely bow, and maybe touch her hand,

but there's the point you may not go beyond,
a clear divide in time and space you can't
intrude upon. The night wind's in the leaves,

a faint, sad rustling running down the hill,
melodious, regretful laughter from
the far end of a room, a voice you know

but cannot put a name to; too much smoke
to get the picture clear. The smaller stars
may not be seen by focussing; instead

by looking closely past them you will find
they're there. Behind the hedge the house lies dark,
I rather know than see it. Should the air

become too cold I may go in. As yet
I much prefer the night sky's haughty pride
to all that cosy stuffiness inside.