I tracked and traced
The moon’s face
Across the wide street of the sky.
I was infected with reflecting light
From a puddleful of me.
I paused to stare
At the year passing:
A first bus with nobody on it
Except that masked man
Who caught my eye
And tested it for vision
Then threw it back
Like a fish into a pond.
The bus turned
Like the weeks turning
And I was a social gathering
All on my own,
All on my own.
And here are a three more of Ian’s poems courtesy of YouTube :