yesterday morning’s full moon
pale and insistent
wanted to star in today’s poem.
I nodded to acknowledge
that I heard the moon,
jotted a scribbly note to myself
went on into the long day of
rain and teenagers,
books and research and
sneaky craft projects that
only exist to make them
talk to each other away from
all screens
I forgot the moon.
So the moon rose over
my street last night, just as
I turned the corner
to remind me
it wanted to be
a star
Some moons are like that
Puff Of Smoke Poems 