Three quick images make up this tiny poem, and the odd thing is how they quietly fit together. The title, "Fourth quarter," points to the moon's last phase, and the first line shows it hanging pale in daylight, a visitor in the wrong part of the day. Below it, two boys curse a ditch, perhaps because they're stuck in it, or stumbling over it, or just enjoying the thrill of swearing. It's a small, rough, human scene set against that calm sky.
Then the speaker steps in: "I in my ship disguise." That phrase is open to interpretation. Judging by the imagery, the speaker may feel like a vessel moving through the scene, or like someone dressed up as something sturdier and more purposeful than they really are. Like the moon, the speaker seems out of place, visible but not quite belonging.
The mood is wry, dreamy and a little lonely, with a light touch of humor. Nothing is explained, and the poem trusts you to feel the connections.