Blood Moon

by May Woollcott

It's almost October,
The grass beneath the chapel
Wet and cold beneath my feet.
People are gathered in pockets,
Friends laughing and leaning in
To each other with hunched shoulders,
Almost-lovers, brushing hands
For a moment before turning
Back inside themselves to hide.

The moon isn't half so big
As we heard it would be,
But there's something about it,
Red light in the distance,
That holds our attention like
An anchor in the sky.
So far from this world
Yet so close to this life,
Space seems much wiser
Than anything here.

We're all seeking something,
Wrapped up in this night.
The answers to questions
We feel but can't name.
Something is missing,
Something's been lost.
When we speak to each other
The words pass straight through.
These days they say we're only
Coding and selfish genes.

In twenty years will I remember
Wishing to pinch the moon
Between my two fingers,
Hold it steady while life shakes the sky?

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