Moon's Visit

My Moon visits me each night
Flooding my cracks with silver light
A silent hour, or perhaps two, in company
Before she moves on and leaves me
To light up other hearths
To fill more vacant parts.
I dip a finger a coat of silver to gain
It comes out flesh and bone again
No speck to treasure come along
So when she is gone, I stand forlorn
On dark nights she refuses to shine
Those cracks wait, then cry out many time
Perhaps to remind her of that  delay
Or to remember it is not their day.