Full Moon

today, seized by
a lunatic missing of you
I hid from the
sharp faces of this world
its conveyor of deeds
and disingenuous speech
sought out a place
I could burn myself alive
for a day, take on the shape
of a wild boar and lunge
at boulders. it didn't last
long, the heart can only
spare part of its red
bicep in the service
of grief. beyond that
there is only the task of
living, the daily
wheelbarrowing of sunlight
across the hours until
the next full moon
the next giving out.