I first noticed it in England, or perhaps it finally found me. I had assumed all this time I was being watched and here was proof. Clear halo in deep navy, shining iris nightly, no stars.
Second time the orientation was more natural, immense. I walked to sky’s edge where town stops. Lay underneath stars low and heavy enough to reach. The bright wanting more.
All moon all the time, the third time. Celestial ceremony captured in ochre. Made it not one but two, three, four eyes that follow, even by day.
That old one walked the earth before there was moon. Held a torch and created the day, never made it back to her son. What will we do if we lose that fire.
Finally we learned how it worked. Did we move or did the moon. Or was it both. Anyway we drove towards it that night. It was super, and the next one will be blue.
If you appreciate Overland’s support of new writers, buy the issue