MOON BEAMS
She called ‘round ’bout 10
Didn’t know that just then
the biggest moon ever
was blooming like never
before… so she stopped
her beater car and bopped
to the shoreline and it
shone as if butterkleig-lit
“Mom, it’s so beautiful!”
And I, the dutiful
mother, in her jammies
ran outside – Midwest clammies
sending shivers… but
how often are you put
in a position
to share this apparition
of synchronicity
nature’s creativity
with one you’ve loved so
from first glance, the glow
of her sweet newborn face
Now she’s in another place
Connected by a phone,
neither is alone
We seize this blessed time
this view, superb, sublime
We cry for happy, ‘cuz
we’re sharing The Night That Was
© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For dverse Open Mic Night, and for Riley – the artistic, fabulous young woman I am proud to call my daughter.
Photo courtesy of The Times Union of Albany, NY.
Off-prompt today… soothing thoughts from the sickbed of yours truly… and it’s written in one of the few forms I have been able to capture with any sense of satisfaction – the shadorma. Peace, Amy
Late At Night (a shadorma)
Late at night
A fine resting place
‘neath the stars
on soft grass
bathed in moonlight still spilling
silver on the field
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
This is also published at my Poem A Day home, Writer’s Island, and at Poets United.
While I am editing several poems on the public protest over workers’ rights here in Madison, I need to take a break and answer a call to a prompt. Too much politics leads to personal unrest, and self-care is a huge part of successfully managing my manic depression… so meditation and writing are a big help!
At We Write Poems, we were asked to write about “safe places.” I was a rover in my twenties, and these are but a few of the places were I laid my head to rest…
Safe Havens
An unheated, leaky garage at an old rocker’s compound
A couch in a flophouse
The egg-crate pads laid on the floor of a nudist commune
Haystacks in a barn, as we helped with the harvest
Marcia and Jesse’s closet, the door unhinged (as was I),
the most comfortable vortex of all…
The beach in Venice, where I lay under an umbrella of starts
watching the slivered silver moon dance through my tripping eyes
An SRO, hot plate heating Chunky Beef Soup
Looking back at these havens, all were safe
Some were filled with love.
others with the scent of cow patties
and the sweat of an honest day’s work.
And still others bore the sweetness of smoke
from Mendocino County’s finest…
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Sometimes you get a prompt from a blog… sometimes from the moon above. Peace to you all, Amy
THE LONGEST NIGHT
Solstice birthed a full moon
A bulging butternut squash
cleaved open to reveal pale orange flesh
No bleak midwinter’s night, this
My world illuminated by moonbeams
peeking through slits of hastily closed drapes
The moon reminds me of life
Life waiting its turn under downy blankets of snow
Life in stars half hidden by a light cloud cover
Life behind facades of houses on Main
as I make my way back from the market
where bored cashiers wish me “Happy Holidays”
Life beyond this Moon and beneath it
To be lived gratefully, audaciously, fully
with a child’s abandon and faith in tomorrow
(c) 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
