The Roof Top
I love to go out on the rooftop at night
Seeing the moon glowing its beautiful light.
It waxes and wanes in its own special way,
Sometimes you can even see it by day.
Depending on where I stand to see
I peek between the branches of a tree.
Wondering how many feet
The moon would be from the sky to the street.
I wish that I could speak to you,
And ask you why you sometimes look blue,
Don’t you wish that you could play,
Instead of hanging there day after day?