Yesterday at dusk, I saw this
row of new moons peaking out from behind the edge of a rain cloud.
They whispered among themselves,
probably thinking I couldn’t see them. After all, I’m just an ordinary human, and
flashes of lightning can cause momentary blindness.
Oblivious to the downpour, I
ran out into the yard and glared at them.
They ducked behind the cloud,
but I could still hear their skuffle, and a low voice said, “Hang on, bros, ‘cause
this wind tonight, it’s a rebel, out of control and taking our cloud on a fast
track.”
“How wonderful—I’ve always
wanted to see the rest of the world, and now I won’t have to wait until my
month comes up,” a higher pitch voice squeaked.
I waved my arms and yelled, “You
up there, whoever’s turn is next, will you please, please stop these evening
storms? I’d like to see the sun set once this week.”
I continued my barrage until,
finally, a slip of a moon, bright yellow against the inky sky, darted out…no,
was kicked out by the crescent points of three others. Trembling, he said, “Forgive
me, I’m late and new on the job.”

This is so poetic, thanks for sharing, Marsha!
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad you enjoyed it! Thanks for stopping by, Damyanti.
ReplyDelete