When I Was Young, I Thought You Hung the Moon
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When I was young, I thought you hung the moon.
You cast your pleasures through my open heart
And lit my darkness. Then you moved away,
And my world lost its music. All I'd known
Drifted off like ashes, and the moon shone
Madly, as if there were no truth by day.
Now we've found each other, and the harsh
Moonlight of the time when you were gone
Has once again the radiance of your art.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon