Waterborne Desk

This shaded lamp,
glows over my head,
I am an angler fish,
the warm orange luminescence,
swims around,
touches my face,
moleskin,
black pens,
and wooden pencils,
our eyes
are paper weighted.

This desk
that cradles
my weary head
is a lonely dim light
in the grand sea of night,

My mahogany ship
keeps my socks dry
for now.

bobbing...
bobbing...

I click my pen,
and pull the pull string,
there is no more poetry,
no more light.

I turn my head up,
to admire
the moon's motherly love,
how she watches over
all her stars,
they all know,
just where
they should be.