Portrait of the Moon
The evening was so hot I left the curtains apart
For the slightest whisper of air into the bedroom.
As I laid my head upon my pillow
I could clearly see the slender branches
Of two, huge trees on the street,
Creating from my bedside view
An almost perfect small circle
Sculpted by their different leaves.
It was lovely.
Through this port hole the grey-blue summer sky
Looked like a portal into space.
And with this enchanting thought
I fell asleep.
Much later, I stirred, perhaps from a dream,
And opened my eyes to the clear window.
In that precise, leafy frame
Was the brilliant half moon
Perfectly centred in the circle.
Like a craft work cut and pasted.
I couldn't believe it.
What were the odds!
But, even as I watched
Stunned with delight,
The Earth spun on its axis
Carrying the tree branches with it.
In mere minutes, maybe seconds,
The impossibly perfect vision shifted.
My Mind couldn't handle the 'Maths'.
I didn't want to know anyway.
I embraced the sheer Magic of it
With, as always, 'Thank you, God.'
Cynthia Buell Thomas, Oct., 2019