I Meant To Tell You

I meant to tell you the moon is still silver.

It still rises same as it used to rise,

shedding light onto cities and lands,

softened by the coming of night.

I meant to tell you that I still gaze upward,

same as when you were here, that in the stillest of hours

while carrying a heart 

as wide as the sea,

if I soak in that moon,

it may bring some relief.