the mystic that wanders around in me

I'm a blank
The sun is out
The wind is cold
Walking but not going.
Why don't you love me?
On the beach
the shells still move.
Summer will never change
But you do, you changed

the face of the mystic
that wanders around in me,
that abandons me
when the rising moon surges
above the loneliness
of this beautiful world.

[Joseph Ceravolo, 'Volcano Tears', in Collected Poems]