I DON'T UNDERSTAND THE QUESTION

they said the moon wasn't
long for this sorry world
all the good leaves quietly
seeing you taller dreaming
knowing which fork to use
when time shortens itself
whispers make like thunder
clapping out a rhythm best
forgotten you know it'll be
so by morning and in any
case better to be erased
than listening to the same
asides repeatedly better to
hear nothing than nothing