White Cold Moon

Outside, the moon is alone in the sky
and floats bright white in the ocean
of the great black-blue on high.

It illuminates slightly my surroundings,
giving everything the soft pallid hue
that makes everything something familiar,
though some things I have never seen.

All things being equal,
under the bright white moon,
I see the waves of grass
in neighboring lawns that I’ve never trod,
and I see the soft waves of the moon
dancing off the rooftops of houses
that I’ve never been welcomed in,
that contains neighbors that I’ve never met.

It’s cold out…
if the sun gives off heat in the day,
does the moon radiate chills at night?

The moon sheds its cold, emotionally bankrupt light
on everything I see.
Is this how I should be?
If this is how all emotional attachment ends up,
should I even bother?
 
Or better yet, should I wait for the moon,
that reopens my wounds just by shining on me?
Every time it comes into sight,
I can’t help but think of all the times
it left me dark and cold.

Should I wait for it to change,
or should I move on?
I can’t see why I should waste my time,
when there are other things that
can radiate a brighter light than this.

If I see it shining its light on others;
what light does it have for me?