Moon Images

I post Moon images

every two weeks...

it’s the least

and the most

I could do

for the last year-and-four-and-a-half-months

that you’ve been gone.

 

No songwriting,

no jewelry-making,

no poems or short stories,

no novels or piano,

no schemes or grand ideas...

just Moon images.

 

They were enough,

and almost too much.

 

Marking the time in two-week intervals.

 

Cloistered away

from Covid-19

in my newly inherited house;

the perfect retreat for my grief

to settle in, make itself at home.

 

The Moon has always been reliable;

it waxes and wanes

and doesn’t ask any questions

or make any demands

or seek reasons why...

it just is.

 

The familiar owl

hoots outside my window

at 4:30 AM,

ushering the full Moon’s rise

again.

 

You died on a full Moon;

I sat next to you under its spotlight,

alone.

 

I feel the Moon ties us together,

but that could just be

the mute poet in me, searching for meaning

in the natural

ebbs-and-flows.

 

Regardless,

the Moon rises

gracefully,

effortlessly,

purposefully,

without explanation.

 

Ensconced in a black cloak,

fully supported.

 

Finally,

naturally,

I break my self-imposed silence.