Lake Moon Night

Another Spring

Kenneth Rexroth

The seasons revolve and the years change

With no assistance or supervision.

The moon, without taking thought,

Moves in its cycle, crescent and full.

The white moon enters the heart of the river;

the air is drugged with azalea blossoms;

Deep in the night a pine cone falls;
Our campfire dies out in the empty mountains.

The sharp stars flicker in the tremulous branches;

The lake is black, bottomless in the crystalline night;

High in the sky the Northern Crown

Is cut in half by the dim summit of a snow peak

O heart, heart, so singularly

Intransigent and corruptible,

Here we lie entranced by the starlit water,

And moments that should last forever

Slide unconsciously by us like water.