Yellow Moon

I stand at my window and listen;

Only the plaintive murmur of a swarm of cicadas.

I stand on the wet grass and ponder,

And turn to the east and behold you,

Great yellow moon.

Why do you frighten me so,

You captive of the coconut glade?

I have seen you before,

Have flirted with you so many a night.

When my heart, ever throbbing, never listless,

Had pined for the moonlight to calm it.

But you were a dainty whiteness

That kissed my brow then.

A gentle, pale flutter

That touched my aching breast.

You are a lonely yellow moon now.

You are ghastly, spectral tonight,

Alone

Behind your prison bars of coconut trees.

That is why

I do not dare take you into my hand

And press you against my cheek

To feel how cold you are.

I am afraid of you, yellow moon.