Regrets Under the Moon

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The lamppost sits at the end of the driveway,
And I sit atop it, like the hand of a clock
Turning to an inner rhyme to the right
The staring out into the depths of the night

The singular glow of the moon up above
As clouds float by in a mysterious glow
Billows of breath appear, only to dissipate
Into the sheer air, into another state

Funny that I should consider dancing at this moment
To be a particularly reasonable request
But with the moon as a spotlight, why not?

I stop at the brink of closing my eyes,
For closing promises rest, and with rest
A chance to forget
But this time I hesitate,
For tonight is one night I would not regret

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