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February Night

February night

February night

The hard day ends in luminous night.

Clouds gave way to sun midafternoon, pinks and blues thin reflections in the office towers. The sky deepens to indigo straight from space. It has been a bad day where nothing bad happened, not really, but it was hard just the same. Work stretched long and the wait for the bus has taken my free time. Friends encouraged after a story’s rejection. I ate dinner on the phone. I’m not complaining.

The walk is short, by the school, by squat long-brick houses. A long-ago therapist echoes: moments are all we have. The Moon shows its luminous face, magic as astronauts. It is the same Moon I saw as a child worried about multiplication and where the bullies were. Tonight it shines down through the cold to the huddled houses stark against Orion and the Big Dipper, small things with bright lights, kids inside in front of televisions. I walk the streets, this walk unique. I insist I  remember.

As it did for the dinosaurs, the Moon shines for us.

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