It Is Late Afternoon

It is late afternoon i have put Beethoven on
It is foolish to impute pain
To the intense sky
But that is what I have done
And I will impute loneliness
To the appearing moon

It is early night down in the lighted city
The tedious hunts begin i have been assured
There is no cause for shame i am not ashamed
I turn the music louder

There's the moon in my room's window
I balance it on my thumb
And try to flip it over it does not turn
But still, my thumb is not broken
I open the window i make the music softer
I walk on Murray Hill
The moon needs no legend
It proclaims it's interest
In time, in the immediate night
I decide to leave it alone in my room
The music is turning
Because I expect a friend