white moon

i don't imagine
i'll be slipping
through the eye
of a needle
soon, but i have
enough. enough
forks, enough food,
knives and spoons,
in fact i can
think of nothing
i want for, not
even you, although
that would be sweet
icing on this
cake i've baked
and set out in
the chill of night
beneath a wonderous
white moon.