But isn’t it going to be cold—
Relentless wind, rain, pitiless sun?
Everyone needs a roof, shelter,
A door that can be closed, right?
Kreaak. Craaack. Crrrrrumble. Whomph.
I see. It all comes down.
Nothing to hold. Nothing left except
Gaping sky.
Oh. Isn’t this the part where I’m supposed to
Ponder how lovely my new uninterrupted view of the moon?
Eventually, perhaps. Okay, the moon’s nice. But
I see the acrostic without the N, that must be the “not yet mastered part.” The monologue works nicely with the little moment of destruction in between.
“The moon’s nice. But…” :>)