Three O'Clock Moon

Like a chalk drawing erased-

in the thin, blue roof of day

it floats,

dishonored head.

Dear Queen,

so many years stone-blind to half your life,

I could shout to the moving people here below:

"Open your eyes and look; or shut them

and make it night."

But they do not even raise their heads

to see

where she floats in her ashen shroud,

dim skeleton.