sunshine

in my window at
three
(ante-meridiem); i never know if she'll
stay
or wander hopelessly on to some
other
stranger's bedside;
i never know if she'll find
solace
in the dark shadows of some
foreigner's
room, safer from these
city lights
beside a
country belle,
guarded from this
concrete
cage by a force
greater
than my own--none-
the less
she always
always
returns,
at three a.m.,
to pay me
homage,
perhaps:
ma chercheuse éternelle
de la face cachée
de la lune.