I was on the verge of lonely
Walking home
Dark streets
All to myself
But at the end of every block
You are there
My big brother moon
Acting all big
Like you don’t care
But you are there
Waiting for me
Walking me home
–
About the poem:
Last week when I was out on an early evening walk with my friends, the two-year-old said, “Hey, the moon is going on the walk with us.” And each time it came into view again, he exclaimed, “See, there it is! It’s following us!”
His mom and I smiled, considered a complicated explanation, and instead we had to agree, “Yes, you’re right!”
Walking home tonight near midnight on deserted sidewalks, I too, kept seeing the moon appear. It was quite low, so it was just at the end of the block, or occasionally through a break in the trees, that it would peek through. I’d tried to call a friend earlier but couldn’t reach him, and was missing him. But when I saw the moon, it felt strangely reassuring and friendly…I guess, it’s been walking people home for thousands of years!
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