A Dozen Tiny Moons
She would gather white, pearly stones and hold them
in her palm like dreams caught in nets, dragged through oceans
and she saw things , in her little handfuls
that others would never notice like
how the stone felt smooth but looked harsh,
or how seaweed stained the surface even after washing.
She kept them in a shoebox on the top shelf of her closet
so her mother wouldn’t find them and call her foolish
or mock her childish habits
and every full moon she would pull down the box and nudge open
one corner of the cover, peeking in to see if the
pearly white rocks were glowing, if they could really sing.
165
Capture time capture
Nanosecond
Capture
Ecstasy and horror
Capture the first kiss
The last hug
The only hand-hold that meant anything to you.
Paste it to your forehead.
Dare people to look you in the eye.