Toledo Museum Home

Visitor’s Voices of Central Catholic 2013


Ralph Albert Blakelock
Brook by Moonlight
Gallery 30B
Molly Sullivan

That Lonely Night

I ran away today to a place no one knows,
Serene and beautiful.
It must be because the yellow moon perfectly reflects off the dark forest green glossy lake,
Or how the moon light just rinses the night enough to see the trees, but nothing else.
This place, I like it.
And I wonder if someone else once took refuge. . . .
Now I’m not sure if I should be here.
These trees are mysterious to my eye, and it is frightfully chilly.
There is something about this tree that I don’t understand,
the way it stands or how the branches gently touch the glass watered lake.
I figured it out.
There is something amongst the shadows, a hunched-back person.
Maybe the person is like me, running away from its problems.
But mine are still with me even when I’m here; I cannot run away from them.
I must go home.
The moon teaches me that no matter where I am, my problems are
still here gnawing inside me,
just like the moon:
no matter where in the world you are,
it always looks exactly the same.