Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Moon Shadow

It’s not quite right
‘moon shadow’
but I can’t erase it
Cat Stevens is just
too loud in my memory

But as I gaze upon the 
moon-lit sky last night
and move my gaze
from sky to land
lit so bright I could 
make my way by foot
across these fields
where hay rolls lay
indolent in the night
and see trees huddling
together pretending
smiling into their
leafy hands at what
my eyes cannot see
moonlight or no
and notice the one
tree too slow or too
fiercely independent
to grow where others
are so firmly entrenched
and see its shadow cast
long across the field
longer than any day-light
shadow could hope to reach

I want to leave the cocoon
of the car and the talk of the
bridge game we old ladies
have just played and jump
into the field and dance
my own moon shadow
dance – a memorial to the 
girl who listened to Cat
Stevens with little thought
of the moon and its shadows
so long ago and so near to here

I want to, but I do not
for the other old ladies
always tenderly caring,
wait patiently to see me
safely into my house from
the safety of the car cocoon
and taking my time to dance
the moon light is to steal
her time and I cannot

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