On the trailhead home
Did you swallow the moon?
Pinned that you are to the ground.
Peel your belly from the soil.
I will brush off what’s embedded
in the softness of your fur.
I ask for your name. I give you mine.
You do not twitch but slowly open
your eyes. What has you here
will keep you until you sink
into the silt path. I wish I could
scoop you up, bring you home.
But I am no match for the moon.
Your little eyes close again
and your breaths shallow.
Please, throw up the moon
back into the sky.
This article originally appeared in Volume 44, Issue 5, published October 31, 2023.