A refulgent slice of moon beset

in waxing gibbous, red

in shadow cast

by light from half a world’s

sunrises, half a world’s sunsets.

A partial lunar eclipse peaked at 4:00am last Friday morning.  I woke at 4:30am.  The moon just high enough in the western sky to view unobstructed through barren tree limbs.  Orion blazed south above garage and street lamps.

My eyes water in the cold breeze, barefoot on flagstone, thin pajamas, tee stained with coffee.  The dog brushes my leg.  Black coat camoflauge, she curls on a lawn chair in shadow and disappears.  The wind chime tinkles high metal notes.  I wipe my eyes and let the refulgent slice of moon, a blazing white cap atop a faint red acorn, really sink in.  Morning goal, soak in the moonlight, bathe in beauty and wonder.  I shiver, go inside to start the coffee.

Half an hour, nearly one mug down, resplendence diminishes, the blazing white cap a dim image. The pale gibbous rose recedes, the old white moon reclaimed.  Cold weak wind, garden mill unspun.  Metal tubes silent. What is left, I pour in the dirt.  The dog reappears.  Eyes dry.