Moon walk
The crescent moon shines in the sky,
a crack of light under the doorway
of the celestial hallway she
is forced to walk, each night,
agonizingly slowly. 29.53 days to cross
the width of the sky.
Imagine, if you will ,
any trip you take daily,
a walk to your mailbox,
a stroll in your backyard,
the return of a grocery cart,
and slow it down to 29.53 days.
29.53 days. Imagine the cars
you would see in the parking lot,
coming and going, vomiting
and swallowing passengers,
the flowers in your backyard
blooming and dying as you approach,
your bills arriving and becoming
past due as you reach the mailbox.
Now imagine what the moon sees,
in her walk across the sky,
especially on clear nights
when her silver gaze gilds
each blade of grass, each trembling leaf.
Lovers reclining in grassy fields,
kissing each other. Old women looking
out windows for sons, lovers, and husbands
long gone. Women
crossing rivers
with children on their back, men racing
through fields as soldiers, machetes flashing silver,
chase them. Cities of
millions
where no one looks up
to offer even a sigh of appreciation.
Around her ankles are shackles
attached to chains attached
to the tides she must pull. Yet no tide
slows her steps as much as
a child crying ceaselessly in the night.
posted by BVB. at 11:01 AM
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