moon
the moon still calls
like when i was a child
knees pulled up close to my chest
perched on the big windowsill in the quiet house
the only one awake in all the world
the moon still calls
even after so many years of not listening
when i mistook pixels for pixies
phone screens for faeries
scrolling for seeing
the moon still calls
and i find ways to answer her again
chin cupped in my hands
gazing at her fullness
she’s not angry with me afterall
and my eyes are young again
12 thoughts on "moon"
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I love the repetition and balance of this poem, “when i mistook pixels for pixies” is so great
Thank you!
The moon still calls us to connect with the world around us — like past generations. Before scrolling became seeing and the magic was lost chasing flashing screens instead of fireflies.
YES- we are all still part of the ancient thread
I, too, love the repetition and the sense of calm you feel now.
Thank you!
What a beautiful little thought. I can see the image of a kid at the windowsill so clearly. Thank you for sharing!
Thank you!
The way you’ve personified the moon as a constant, patient presence in life is deeply touching. GREAT WRITE!
Thank you!
Yes! to poems about the moon.
😊💛