the great moon
long nights she waxes and wanes, is new, crescent, quarter,
gibbous, full. To some, a mirror of emotion, to others,
I am trying to learn silence. It’s not easy.
I am trying to remove clutter. That, too, is difficult.
By silence I mean moments of stillness longer than a few seconds. You know: when nothing hums, beeps, whistles, dings, roars,…
A story. A story under a story. And a story under that, and behind that one, and—wait!—there is another, larger one.
When my first child was born, the doctor threatened forceps, and so I pushed. But once out of my…