For the present there is just one moon, though every level pond gives back another.

But the bright disc shining in the black lagoon, perceived by the astrophysicist and the lover,

is milliseconds old. And even that light's seven minutes older than its source.

And the stars we think we see on moonless nights are long extinguished. And, of course,

this very moment, as you read this line, is literally gone before you know it.

Forget the here-and-now. We have no time but this device of wantoness and wit.

Make me this present then: your hand in mine, and we'll live out our lives in it.