Rivers run to seas, and at times reverse course as the tidal pull of the moon pushes the sea back upstream.
The moon had my soul as I stepped through the gate into the schoolyard. I listened hard for the sweaty shouts of teammates running ghost-like on the lined fields of memory. Echoes of their gameful cries disperse to memory. My gaze fixes now on an orange line of thin clouds lingering across the pale sky of coming day. ♨
The full moon sets into a penumbral eclipse, sinking into the tree-lined ridge with spidery fingers of arboreal silhouettes etched across the lunar surface. Meanwhile, early commuters in the valley below sip steaming coffee and steer into another day of meetings, dealings, opportunities and confrontations, oblivious to the celestial spectacle along the ridgetop. ♨