by Gayathri Kakarparthi
When the Moon Won’t Interfere
Among the advisories, the gentlest requests
we lawn chair our limbs in the pre-dawn
darkness, allowing our eyes to acclimate
to the lack of light. The moon won’t interfere
tonight, we’re told, with streaking grains
of ice across the sky. It’s just a phase,
my love – no satellite is ever shrinking.
We’re not drinking the white wine
because of pregnancy. There’s a baby
growing in your womb’s golden hour.
We’ve mistaken our own opaqueness
for the glow beyond the uterine wall.
I’m thankful for the many boundaries
we don’t cross, how tall our son will be,
not setting the alarm and sleeping through
the meteor shower’s peak. We’ve taken
everything we can from the past week,
so why not let the sky have this one
Thomas Mixon has poems, fiction, and nonfiction in Renesme Literary, COUNTERCLOCK, Briefly Write, and elsewhere. He’s trying to write a few books. You can find him on Twitter @truckescaperamp.
Gayathri Kakarparthi is a fine artist and digital illustrator from Chennai, India. Her work is inspired by the beauty of the natural world and the magic in the ordinary. With the belief that art can act as a catalyst for personal growth, she invites viewers to explore their own feelings and emotions through her art. gayathrikakarparthi.com https://www.instagram.com/gayathri_kakarparthi/.