Centre: 4.25am a centre too

As I’m circling round her tonight, I think people’ve made the unhappy moon mad too,

Has the world made it cloudy this morning? with sorrow of tears early hours return

She lurks in the shadows of night, now, rotations of moonlight, throwing lunar logic

Askew, appearing then disappearing with only a question, she’s made me mad, too

I think she speaks love to me (is that mad?) How does one reach that conclusion so distant

A journey she casts mad light at me, circling me nightly, 4.25am poetry about her beauty

She comes, but does she