The title is the hardest part, therefore
I've left it wholly blank, left it to your
imagination to supply the words
and I just carry on writing the verse.
There are no titles to my days and nights;
they come and go behind my back as I write.
The sun plays out his reel to hook the moon
in the oceans of the sky, the tides turn -
surge and ebb, surge and ebb without headings,
without glossaries and footnotes shedding
any insight, their whispers softly muted;
the dots of stars always unconnected.
Summing the whole with just a part, just a phraseseems bizarre, much better off with a blank space.