Clear and still. I search the glowing trees for last night’s shapes in the moonlight: the monstrous puma, the opossum playing at death.
moon
Saturday September 21, 2019
In the otherwise uncluttered blue, the moon like a half-slice of fruit. An orange cat threads the ivy atop the neighbor’s fence.
Thursday July 25, 2019
In the blue sky, the downward dog of a moon just past the clothesline. I take my apple core to the compost, a dark chaos too hot for worms.
Monday October 01, 2018
A half moon high overhead, fading as the fog rises off the meadow. A nuthatch lands on the dead elm’s smooth trunk and turns all about.
Tuesday October 10, 2017
Before dawn, the half moon’s flat edge passing through different types of clouds like a cheese knife. The neighbor’s rooster starts to crow.
Tuesday April 11, 2017
Red maple trees blossom on their own schedules. The branches I watched the moon slip through like a slow fish last night are now ablaze.
Saturday November 19, 2016
The loud rasp of squirrel teeth trying to gain entry to the chambers of a black walnut. Gibbous moon like an eggshell discarded in the sky.
Thursday September 22, 2016
Clear and cold at sunrise. A migrant thrush calls from the not-yet-ruined temple of the trees. Overhead, the archaic smile of the moon.
Wednesday August 24, 2016
A wash of cirrus below the moon’s inverted bowl. A northern pearly-eye butterfly perches on the porch, bullseyes shining on its underwings.
Monday August 15, 2016
Beads of rain that were shining moonlets 10 hours ago are now mere glitter. Night has shrunk to the dark iridescence in a butterfly’s wing.