Waxing Gibbous – 10:00 p.m. (ish)
I saw it swollen
a pregnant belly
in the 6 o’clock sky
The moon, in plain sight
and again, hours later
when the night was fully dark
as I shivered, rushing the dog
to do his business
so we could get out of the cold
The moon may not have noticed
how I went back on my word
to sit each night
in observation
of every phase
This year’s moon
hangs heavily
as if mourning the burden
of my abandonment,
a grieving moon,
that knows me better
than I know myself