Not This Time

A poem from February or March for your viewing pleasure.

Late one night
In your father’s garden
I turned to you and asked,
“When did all the stars go out?
The sky used to be so bright.”
And you said to me
In the most incredulous tone,
”What do you mean?
It’s been dark all along”

Was it just a dream?
A trick of the mind?
A projection from inside?
Have I given up?
Or were you never at my side?
Did you never see the light?
Surely, I’m not alone
Surely, not this time

Could someone please remind me how to see?
Would someone please demand I try to feel
Again

Why are you so sure
There’s nothing that can be done?