Isolation sonnet, 3

Early morning bright half-moon backing into
the gap between Jupiter and Saturn.
Everything bright or dark, everything
etched by stark contrast.
The waning moon faces backwards and I expect
more gray and yellow in the night.
Waking and waiting to go back to sleep, instead
take a half-blind turn around the house.

Moonlight pours from south-facing windows,
drapes trapezoids of colorless light, reshapes
random furniture, walls, countertops, appliances.
Constellations of electronics status lights cluster
from shelves and desks. Cold navigational signs
that pepper the night, that I barely know how to read.