Elegy or Ode?

 

Elegy or Ode? 

If the firmament, knowing

    the moon as only

        the beloved can know,

            with the float and flow

                of opening and holding

open those sometimes overly-

        fast sometimes overly slow

            going molecules folding

                from heat from cold

                    such rain, snow, the roam

of the open, the close,

    would it write elegy or ode

        celebration or gentrified moan

            that only holding and letting go

                can know

like the rope 

    in the undertow

        the lope toward gloaming

                and hope, her coal,

                    glowing?