A Moonlit Night in Winter

Across
This cold
And dreadfully
Dark
Night-time
Winter sky,
Stars
Send forth
Specks
Of glittering,
Splinter-edged light.

Ever rising,
A full
Ripe melon
Of a moon
Casts
Deep
And discernible
Shadows,
Tempering
The incandescent
Brilliance
Of the covering snow.

The whole of it
Is neither
The promise
Nor the hope.

It is the now.
It is what is.