Citronella
Moonlight blank newsprint across the lawn,
Three-quarters moon, give or take,
empty notebook, no wind.
When it’s over it’s over,
Cloud crossing moon, half-clear sky, then
candle-sputter, shadow-crawl.
Well, that’s a couple of miles down the road,
he said to himself,
Watching the moonlight lacquer and mat.
Surely a mile and then some,
Watching the clouds come and the clouds go.
Citronella against the tiny ones, the biters,
Sky pewter-colored and suddenly indistinct now—
Sweet smell of citronella,
beautiful, endless youth.
The book of moonlight has two pages and this one’s the first one.
Foresake me not utterly,
Beato immaculato,
and make me marvelous in your eyes.
—Charles Wright, from Bye-And-Bye: Selected Late Poems
I like writing, photography, reading, music, design, typography, paper products, days in the seventies and sparkly snow, Spanish wine and cans of PBR. I spent a year in Córdoba, Spain, working as a 
