“The next full moon will be on July 16.” By Sasha at her desk

Tuesday July 2, 2019
5 minutes

you are a moon daughter
moon sister birth and born and
heaven is here even in
the green earth
bursting red
clay is cracking
hand pies made of ancestor
bones and we get along
with the yellow of
daisy paint on our cheeks
and church in the morning
lighting the candles at sundown
trouble is the lightning
strike cross the picket line
of the dirty rhymes and the
forgetfulness of February

be strong i say to the
nightmare frozen in my throat
tattooing brave on my tongue
before i speak

“The next full moon will be on July 16.” by Julia at her desk

Tuesday July 2, 2019
5 minutes

I have this big hope that one night
when I look up at the moon I will see
her smiling into me and I will know
that yes, this, here and now, is right

It’s a big reach because these days I
want to see her so bad that it hasn’t
happened except that one night on Bowen
Island when she woke me up from my dream
to pulse my whole life into a frenzy

When you look for something doesn’t it
always do that funny thing of eluding you?
Something like happiness in the shape of a
bird, or a butterfly, landing on your shoulder
then flying away before you can get a good look?

I am not asking for a miracle but for the
acceptance of whatever shape this readiness
will take when it presents itself to me:
a heart, sure, a vintage plastic cup with
all the right stripes of summer…

I will take it like birdsong, here for a
minute and then gone again, waiting until
the night is ripe for another talking moon
full of light and wisdom and knowing