She—the moon—listens to my complaints like the good companion she is & comforts me surely with her light.

What else is there to do on a night like this, with news such as there is, except to look up at the moon on the spring equinox and, with Mary Oliver, recognize that "She listens to my complaints like the good companion she is & comforts me surely with her light."

Photo taken with a Fuji X100F

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Moon and Water—Mary Oliver

I wake and spend
the last hours
of darkness
with no one

but the moon.
She listens
to my complaints
like the good

companion she is
and comforts me surely
with her light.
But she, like everyone,

has her own life.
So finally I understand
that she has turned away,
is no longer listening.

She wants me
to refold myself
into my own life.
And, bending close,

as we all dream of doing,
she rows with her white arms
through the dark water
which she adores.