Waxing Gibbous Moon
A Solstice Poem
The sun stands still, ushering in the longest night. No stars. Only you, alone in the sky, subdued by the light streaming from windows, glittering off balconies, reflecting the breath of the ocean, sparkling on the mountains. I see you there, glowing oval, visible in your second phase, tucked between New Moon and first quarter Moon. You are radiant, a sphere low on the horizon, not full, still forming. Under your eye, nights will shorten, one by one, days yawning open, a sliver at a time, beckoning us to emerge from the darkness. But tonight, we are still here, together. Watching each other shift in December’s shadows, stirring slightly, still waiting for an awakening, to become more of ourselves. Clouds form, blocking the sky. I look down on the teeming streets and hear the sound of footsteps on cobblestones, smell of rain hitting pavement.
I’m proud to be a member of the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative. Please consider reading or supporting our members:
Thank you, it's lovely.