My Moon (a poem)

Monday, March 01

By Nora Ryan

I have never met the moon

She lays in the sky

Waiting to be pulled down to Earth

If I could, I’d wrap my arms around her

I’d sing her softly to sleep

I’d lull her away to a paradise in my mind

She would reside within my hands

Malleable and precious

I’d caress her

Not like a lover, 

But in the way the sun caresses the petals of a flower

The way snow caresses my face

I would caress the moon

Tides would recede into my touch

The earth would soften

In the palm of my hand I could hold the universe

I would love the moon until it destroyed me

In chaos and blood

I’d lay with her in my hands

But Pride is a vicious mother

She beats me until I scream and claw

She drags me down from the skies

Further and further away

My moon becomes small

Becomes far

Becomes lost to me


I watch her float above me

As she watches me wander below

Seeing all my late nights

Protecting me as I walk through unfamiliar places

See unfamiliar faces

Ensuring I get home when no one else will


I want to hold the moon

I’ve chased her for so long

My joints crack and my bones ache

And still I follow her

Until my feet give out

Until I collapse on the pavement

Until I lie still on my back

Gazing at the moon

There is no one to make sure I get home tonight

And so I don’t


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