Member-only story
The Moon Again
A poem
It is four o’clock in the afternoon,
and we are driving home from the playground
when you exclaim from the backseat,
“Look, Mama! I found the moon.”
And I ask you where it’s hiding,
and you tell me it’s behind the trees.
And I ask you if you think it’ll follow us home,
and you giggle and tell me yes.
When we pull into the driveway,
I scoop you out of your car seat
and you rush to stand on your own two feet;
You look right up at the sky with wonder,
and point with one little finger as you beckon to me.
“Look, Mama! I found the moon again.”
I look briefly, but then my gaze turns to you,
whose little cheeks are turned upwards at the sky,
whose big green eyes hold a universe within them.
The moon again, I muse.
“It will always find us,” you declare.
“And I will always find you”, I promise.
Many thanks to Kait Quinn and Amy Kay for the poetry prompt. This piece was orginally published on my Substack — subscribe today.
