Wednesday, August 24, 2011

It Yet Looms Yellow in My Mind

i have never seen the moon this large
looming sweet on the horizon
like a pebble you reach to find beneath the rush of a stream
like the golden face of a clock, ticking
grown sickly pale with time
and don't we all?
but tonight i will leap and feel my foot strike earth
record with joy the tickle of the dew-wet ferns as they brush my leg
in the jumble of my memory (so much like my mother's junk drawer, all the pieces entangled)
as i breathe "i will remember this; i will remember this"
to coax my mind into releasing the needle to cut this moment into memory's fickle vinyl
and i will spin with the next step, i will note how my limbs look, bathed in the cool glow
how the yellow globe of the moon makes us here below shine strangely blue
like a mix-up occurs in the millions of miles from there to here
colour lost in the atmosphere
and i will record it all
so that years and years from now
when my body wanes thin
and my hair is wispy white
i will play it back
i will remember how the wind felt on my hands
i will recall how i was breathing hard
and how later when sprawled, exhausted
on the hill, prickly with August grass
i spoke a small prayer in gratitude
for the rising of the yellow moon