The Blue Moon Won't Sing

in the presence of whited eyes
       can you gather the starry sand
       on the long beach of unbecoming wishes

and the blue moon won't sing anymore
       treading the mud is you barefooted
       with your hands clinging close
              to the brittle heart of glass

please keep walking dear you
          though the miles will scar
                   eternally your soul

for somewhere en route
  I'll be there waiting, with your shoes