The Moon  by Nancy Schatz Alton

I want to show you the moon on the way to the ice-skating rink—

a day-away from full

my daughter (next to me) laughing at my funny additions to the song

the clouds adorning the sky

the moon—a feast for our eyes

a cliché—the easiest way to say it.

 

Can you see it? The moon looked full

The heat in the car warm enough

for me to click it off

my eyes full of the moon’s almost fullness

the tires rolling us to our destination.

 

There I’ll drink burnt coffee and talk, talk, talk

while Liz skates in the stark, chemical-laden rink

as she works out the details of the ice-skating

shuffle slide glide until we return to the moon party

our car tires rolling us home underneath Earth’s moon—

almost full. Really she’s always full

showing us her pieces in a pattern

night after night doing her own shuffle

slide glide with Earth’s clouds and weather.