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| This is what I wanted to see last night, but did not. |
brighter but not engorged with light
as I had hoped. We walked a little down
the road, the boy and I, to get a better view,
but it was just a moon, the same one we
see every night it visits through the clouds
(but brighter, no denying that.) Of course
it never really changes size at all. It's rock, a
finite mass that simply is, and does not grow
or lose its shape despite our howling at its fullness,
trying to make our way through forests with
the sliver of a crescent, the darkness of the new,
the oval of the gibbous whether waxing, whether
waning. It's all a matter of perception, the thing
we think we see, the thing we want to see.
Like so much else.
Like so much else.
(c) Ellen Gillette, 2014
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