The bold moon
My pal Eddie called tonight. He knew I was at the computer, and prompted me to get up and gaze out my front door. He repeated the instructions: a) get up b) gaze out. He seemed primed to repeat them again.
I felt it best to placate him rather than inquire why he felt urgency to tear me away from my work. For those few moments walking to the front door, I felt perplexed. I knew Eddie didn’t have a pink Porsche gift waiting out front; nor would he make the request that I’d open the door to a coyote for a shocking rural experience.
I opened the door to behold a round moon hovering above the trees. “Are you looking out?” he asked via the phone at my ear.
“Yes,” I replied.
Quite the moon, he said. Only a few nights ago we had a conversation about a full moon. I’d told him I believed a full moon could cause reason for crazy happenings. I thought, I said during the conversation, that we must be under or near a full moon.
Tonight as I gazed out, I said, this moon seemed to be not Full, yet waning.
“Looks full to me,” he said.
It did, I agreed. Yet a moon could show slightly less round on the days surrounding the full moon. I could be wrong, I said, yet this moon seemed to be waning ever so slightly. Secretly asked myself why I didn’t consider ’twas waxing ever so slightly.
I returned to the computer to look up the moon schedule. Sure enough, here in the U S of A, our February full moon was last night — Valentine’s evening.
Secretly wondered what crazy romances waned and waxed last night.
Lovely still, I said to Eddie, the moon so close to full.
Bold in the sky, drawing our eyes. Eddie was driving when he called to bring my attention to it. When I opened the solid wood front door it immediately drew my gaze.
The moon seems mysterious — half moon, sliver moon or whatever phase. Yet when it’s full we’re most reminded of its mystique. I know the moon well enough to recognize a wane, sans checking the moon phase calendar. Means I’ve gazed at it oft. Still, Eddie reminds me to continue regarding it.