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.