Goodnight to the Ghost Courtyard

Under moon and clouds and stars,
If you were a true one-off,
Who would want to talk with you?

Who would want to sing your tunes?
If you really were unique
Enough to be distinguished

As unlike anyone else,
How lonely would that make you?
No, you’re myriad, legion,

Different in the way of groups,
Just one of the marginal,
More or less marginal, groups.

You emerge in the courtyard
You’ve shared and chant at the moon.